Vampire Hunting
by fantasdancer
Summary: The Vampires discover Sam's secret. Soon Dean and Sam are being hunted by the Vampires who want to use Sam in a mysterious ceremony. Lots of hurt/limp Sam & Dean. Set after 2.10 Hunted PART 1 COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_**Set - just after Dean tells Sam about John's last words.**_

Sam had been quiet in the car. Too quiet.

Dean kept shooting worried glances his way surreptitiously. Damn. Sam had that set to his jaw, the one that meant he was hurting. Well, who could blame the kid, after finding out about his dad's last words. He could see that Sam was hurt and worried.

John Winchester had spent 22 years on the yellow eyed demon. He knew things about Sam that he'd taken with him to the grave. Sam was gonna worry about turning dark-side; gonna worry about his freaky new powers, and whether they were dark side stuff or not. What was worse was he was gonna worry about whether his own brother was telling him everything he knew, or whether there were _still_ some secrets Dean hadn't passed on. Hell, he was gonna be second guessing every twitchy move he made, wondering if that was what Dean had been told to watch out for. Wondering if his brother was gonna actually kill him – despite Dean's assurances to the contrary. Dean felt the beginnings of a headache and let out a sigh.

"What?" Sam turned to peer at his brother through his overly long fringe of brown hair.

"I think my baby needs a drink at the next gas station. How 'bout you?"

Sam shook his head. "Just need to stretch my legs a bit. You know, I still think there's something screwy about Murphy's disappearing act."

"What? Everything looked fine to me."

"I don't know - can't put my finger on it," Sam huffed out a frustrated breath.

Dean shook his head. Bobby had asked them to stop in town to check on a missing hunter friend of his, by the name of Murphy. "Look, he organised for his neighbour to look after his cat and take care of the mail. He's out of town and probably just forgot to let Bobby know his plans. His place was fine – nothing suspicious, nothing out of place, so, case closed."

It got quiet for a few moments. Dean didn't want to spend another half hour watching his brother worry. "You need something to eat?"

Sam looked up, "Dude, didn't you get enough at that diner an hour ago?"

Dean grinned half heartedly, "You know me, fast metabolism or something. I need to keep my fuel tank filled on a regular basis."

"Whatever." Sam went back to looking out the side window.

Dean had seen Sam's jaw set again with inner pain. He knew what was really on Sam's mind. He clenched his own jaw. He should have told Sam right away about what their dad had said. Shouldn't have put Sam's trust in him at risk. But, how could you pass on something like that? Hey dude, dad told me to save you and if I couldn't, I have to _kill_ you – but dad _did_ love you you know. Geez, there was no easy way to pass on crap like that. Maybe he needed to tell Sam why he'd had trouble telling him. Sometimes, you shouldn't skip the chick flick moments.

Dean pulled into a gas station heading out of the small city of Roseburg in Oregon.

Sam got out, stretched his long body, and wandered over to the side of the gas station. There was a newspaper bin at the corner of the building and Sam hunted through his pockets for some coins. He never saw the creature. Never got any hint that he was in trouble. There was blinding pain and even as he sank towards unconsciousness he could feel something incredibly strong wrap an arm around his waist and pull him off of his feet ... .

Dean was putting the fuel cap back on. He glanced towards his brother in time to see something moving fast. It struck Sam at the side of his head with something and snatched his brother around the waist and Sam was gone. The coins he'd been holding clinking to the cement.

"Sam!" yelled Dean. He ran. Got to the corner. Peered down an empty alleyway and knew that Sam was gone. Dean's heart was in his throat. Something had taken his little brother.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Pain.

Pain tortured him.

Sam couldn't feel anything but the throbbing pain in his head. A moan passed his lips. He shifted, trying to put a hand to the aching spot on his head and froze for a moment realizing that his hands were restrained. With a gasp he flung himself into full consciousness; eyes open, blinking around, trying to see where he was and exactly how deeply into crap he'd fallen.

But there was nothing to see, only blackness. No light. No windows.

He was lying on a cold tiled floor, his hands over his head were tied to a smooth pole. A wrench at his hands told him right away that he wasn't gonna get them loose without losing a lot of blood, and the pole wasn't gonna shift any time this century either. His jacket and shirt were gone, his shoes and socks as well. His shoulders slid against the smooth tiles as he tried unsuccessfully to shift himself upright. Sam let his head drop back to the floor again. Why couldn't he move? His brain couldn't seem to process the information for him.

His panicked breaths didn't echo back to him like they would in a bathroom, and no matter how far he stretched out, his body didn't brush against anything. The tiles underneath him were cold and huge – the kind that belonged in large expensive spaces. Sam's head throbbed harder with his movements. There was a sticky trail of blood down passed his ear and Sam recognised the nauseating results of a concussion.

Then there was a sound. Soft and rustling. Sam found himself looking blindly in the direction of the noise instinctively catching his breath so that he could hear better.

Another sound. Louder and more deliberate from behind him.

A cold, powerful hand wrenched him up right to sit with his back against the pole. Sam twisted himself out of the grip. "Who the hell are you? What do you want?"

A girlish giggle from his left and a light touch against the blood by his ear. The touch was gone again before Sam could begin to flinch away. There were more rustling sounds, the clinking of glass and the creaking of leather. People. Maybe five or six around him in the dark room.

Licking sounds. "Ooh, Raf. Taste him, he's delicious," crooned the owner of the giggle.

"He's so young, are you sure he's one of them," said a male voice softly, from the right.

"I'm sure, replied a deep baritone voice.

"Hurry up, Raf," whined a third male voice. "I'm starving!"

Vampires. Sam guessed and felt his heartbeat pick up speed. Oh hell.

"He's getting scared," said another female voice from further away. Rustling sounds. Stilettos clicking sharply on tiles, eight, nine steps. Her hair brushed his cheek as she bent to run a hand over his chest. 'I love to hear their heart beats flutter when they guess the truth."

"Turn on the lamp, Crystal. Let him see."

The hand lifted from Sam's chest. The stilettos clicked away again.

"Samuel Winchester." The deep baritone again, resonating through the room with authority. The owner of the voice straddled Sam's thighs, shifted upwards until Sam could feel the brush of clothing against his chest. The pole behind Sam pressed hard between his shoulder blades as Sam tried to back away.

Light flared and Sam squinted his eyes around to the source. Sam saw a girl – vampire - in a tight green dress straighten up by an expensive lamp, one black stockinged knee resting on the arm of a black leather lounge. There were five other Vampires in the room. A lounge room that screamed money and opulence. Three more identical couches edged the room, a dozing male vampire draped over one like a cat. Three other Vampires sat at an expensive black bar while a forth worked to make a blood red cocktail. A persian rug had been rolled away from the pole in the centre of the room. Sam could see the stains of old blood in the grouting where he sat on the sleek black porcelain tiles.

The vampire on his thighs shifted closer, capturing Sam's attention. He peered closely into Sam's face and brushed Sam's hair away from his eyes. "Samuel Winchester, you are about to die," whispered the dominant Vampire into his ear. He settled back on Sam's thighs again looking curiously at him.

Sam couldn't help the defiant glare that he shot back at the vamp. Raf was pale and ageless looking. Handsome – and he had a strong streak of that 'allure' stuff that Vamps have – Sam could feel his groin twitch with anticipation despite the concussion headache and the fact that he didn't swing that way. Raf's long brown hair was combed back and pony-tailed away. He looked to be about thirty years old. His face was smooth and his skin pale and perfect. He was dressed in a grey silk dress shirt and black suit pants with a black leather jacket. Expensive, stylish. Not the usual look for Vampires, thought Sam.

"Nothing to say, Samuel? Don't you want to know why?" murmured Raf, lifting Sam's chin and examining his face intently.

Sam thought about spitting in the Vamp's face; thought about struggling. But, what was the point? He huffed out a breath. "Just get it over with," he said between clenched teeth.

Raf felt his forehead furrow with curiosity. "My, but you are _young_ to be so uncaring for your own life, Samuel."

"Raf, hurry up!" said one of the males, prowling impatiently around the room.

Something flickered in Raf's eyes. Old eyes - unlike the body that they were in. Eyes that had seen an awful lot more than they should have, and there was something – odd - about them. They were green eyes, noted Sam. Exactly the same colour as Dean's eyes. God, Sam was gonna have to close his eyes when they started on him. He didn't want to see eyes that looked like Dean's when he drew his last breath.

Raf smiled, his teeth slowly elongating. "We hunt hunters now, Samuel. We got tired of being slaughtered by hunters even though we weren't killing people." He smiled icily, "It's a case of survival you see." He sighed softly tracing a finger over Sam's bare chest. "I just wanted you to know."

Sam turned his head away.

Raf wrenched Sam's head brutally back around to face him, and then he stroked his other hand surprisingly gently down Sam's cheek. "You're very attractive, Samuel," he said softly. "I would have considered turning you if you'd been anything other than a hunter."

Sam wrenched his head away again. The other Vampires were watching him hungrily.

The bite at his neck was sudden, vicious and agonising, like acid and fire together. Sam couldn't help the gasp of pain that escaped his lips, his back arching against the pole. He saw one of the other Vampires smile and lick her lips before he screwed his eyes shut, panting against the agony of the bite, feeling his life's blood being drawn from his body. Bye Dean, thought Sam. Now you won't have to worry about making that decision dad gave you.

Abruptly Raf wrenched his mouth free. He sat back, blood trickling down his chin, his eyebrows lifted high in surprise as he stared at the boy beneath him. Benjamin stepped closer thinking Raf was done, and that they could all take their share now. Raf 's head whipped around to him and he hissed.

Benjamin jumped back into a defensive crouch. "Raf? What? What is it?"

"Everybody out," said Raf.

"But ..." began Crystal.

"Out!" hissed Raf again. "Go downstairs, get the packing finished and take Nathanial with you."

There was a hasty scurry of feet. The giggly one woke the dozing vampire and dragged him to the door before he was fully awake, all the while shooting wary glances Raf's way.

Sam unclenched his eyes and looked back up at the Vampire in his lap, dizzily.

Raf sat still on Sam's thighs, pressing his fingers to the wound on Sam's neck until the bleeding stopped. He waited for the door to close behind the last of his kin. Raf bent closer, millimetres from Sam's face and slowly and deeply he breathed in Sam's scent. He ran his hand over Sam's face again, gently, musingly. "If you are what I suspect, Samuel Winchester, then you are far too precious to kill." He stared down at his prisoner for a moment, his expression thoughtful and contemplative. "So, let's find out shall we?"

SNSNSNSNSN


	2. Chapter 2

Dean finally got back to Murphy's house and used the skeleton keys on the door for the second time that day. The hunter had left lots of notes in his study. He'd only glanced through briefly that morning but there had been references to a possible nest of Vampires. The thing that had taken his brother had been solid and moved blindingly fast and there weren't that many supernatural creatures out there that would risk doing it.

Vampires were one of them.

Part of him realised that it was a long shot – coming here to find clues for his missing brother. But Dean had carefully searched the alley up and down, and hadn't found a single damned thing. So here he was, clutching at straws, hoping, maybe Murphy had something useful about the supernatural freaks that were on his turf.

Murphy was a meticulous researcher by the look of his notes. He was also very organised. He had four cork boards up on the walls. Some filled with notes, victim profiles, news paper clippings and maps. He didn't have a computer around. A huge oak bookshelf was neatly lined with journals of previous hunts and alphabetised folders of information on a huge variety of supernatural creatures. Dean flipped through one on the folders carefully. Murphy had photocopies of relevant book pages stuck in the folders, instead of a library full of books like Bobby did. Each photocopy listed the book it had come from and where the book could be found if needed again. Actually the guy's research style reminded him a lot of John Winchester. Dean pushed aside the sudden intense feelings of loss and pain, and focussed on the job.

One board was empty except for gold drawing pins – which this morning, had left him thinking that Murphy might have gone out on a hunt. But now, coming to think of the way the guy worked, it seemed odd that such an organised, meticulous hunter would forget to pass on his travel plans to friends like Bobby that would worry.

Sam had picked up on it. Sam had a way of tuning in on the wishy washy stuff like emotions and personality traits and quirky behavioural stuff. Dean liked facts – good solid facts to sink his teeth into. It was probably what made them such a good team. They missed a hell of a lot less, working together on hunts; a lot less than when he'd been working alone.

Mental note to self – listen to Sammy a little more. If he thinks something's hinkey – it probably _is_. A small part of his mind wondered briefly if he was ever gonna be able to do that with Sammy again – do _anything_ with Sammy again. Dean shoved the folder back into the bookshelf and turned to look at the cork boards again. One board was covered in notes about a possible poltergeist haunting the sawmill out of town. Dean ignored that board. Whatever had snatched Sammy had been solid.

The next board had only a few newspaper clippings on it. Preliminary research material about three deaths, all off a bridge, over the last ten years. Maybe the fault of something supernatural, but then again, maybe not.

The last cork board had extensive notes covering it. Cows found drained of blood covering the last sixty years or so – on and off. Maps showed the cow deaths were pretty much scattered, so no clues there. Three missing persons in the last two years, but no bodies were ever recovered. Dean frowned when he realised that one of the missing people had been a hunter. He pulled down the newspaper article and the accompanying notes. Jeff Saundic, ex Vietnam veteran, disappeared two years ago. He'd been missing for four weeks before someone had raised the alarm. The notes showed that someone had organised for his newspaper deliveries to stop the day after he'd disappeared. Speculation was that he'd gone interstate. Murphy had spent time looking into who'd stopped the paper deliveries but hadn't been able to figure out who was responsible. No trace of Saundic had ever been found, and his house and belongings had been sold off by his relatives just three months ago.

Dean flipped through the rest of the notes. There was another map – an inner city one with red pencil marks all over it, cross referenced to two suspicious hospital cases that Murphy had researched. Dean found the interview notes Murphy had made of the two hospital victims. Both had presented at hospital with multiple bite wounds and near fatal blood loss. Both attacks had happened years ago though. The map indicated a building. Both victims had been pretty out of it – drugged. The interview notes showed that both victims remembered being in a large apartment. One victim said that she remembered people biting her. The other victim had remembered part of a street name. Murphy had narrowed it down to one street. Cassidy Street. Murphy had been systematically checking out all the apartments on the street and was down to two possible buildings.

Dean stuffed the notes into a folder he found on Murphy's desk and tucked it inside his jacket pocket. He hurried out of the house; crossed the street to the neighbours and rang the doorbell.

Mrs Ventra was a thin old woman, complete with grey hair plaited into a bun, a mouth full of false teeth and a smile that made the day look sunnier. Dean couldn't help smiling back at her as she answered the door.

"Hi, Mrs Ventra, it's me again."

"Oh, it's so nice of you boys to drop by again. I still have those chocolate chip cookies if you'd like to come in for some more tea."

Dean shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am. Iv'e got to find my brother after this. I just wanted to ask a quick question. Do you remember who asked you to look after Mr Murphy's cat and his mail while he was gone?"

"Ohh," said Mrs Ventra putting a finger to her lips and tapping at them as she dredged up the memory. "Now let me think, it was a girl. Pretty little thing she was. A tad pale though. I asked her to come in for some tea as well, but she said she had to get back to work."

Dean's smile thinned. "She didn't leave her name did she?"

"No, no, I'm afraid not, dear."

Dean, backed down the steps. "Thanks, Mrs Ventra. And ahh, just some advice. Don't go offering every Tom, Dick and Mary tea and biscuits. There are some bad people around you know. I wouldn't want to see a pretty lady like you get hurt."

Mrs Ventra blinked in surprise. "Ohhh, go on. I haven't had anyone call me 'pretty' in thirty years." She smiled her false teeth at Dean happily, blushing a rosy pink.

Dean shook his head and gave her a wave. He climbed back into the Impala and pulled out Murphy's city map. He checked it carefully and sat back to think for a moment. The sun was beginning to set. People would be getting home from work about now. He pulled out his stash of fake ID cards and flipped through them until he found the one he wanted.

"Sammy, hold on. I'm coming," muttered Dean as he drove the Impala out into the road heading for Cassidy Street.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Let's find out shall we?" said Raf shifting slightly on Sam's thighs. Then his lips locked over Sam's in a move made so fast that Sam couldn't register it.

Sam was totally unprepared for the kiss. He picked up residual traces of his own blood on Raf's tongue as it swept over his, and he would have been gagging were it not for the strange nature of the kiss. It was deep; _intensely_ deep. Demanding and sensually experienced beyond anything he wanted to know about. A distant part of him registered that Raf's kiss wasn't anything like a humans kiss.

Sam tried pulling free; freaked out not only by the Vampire but by the intensity of the kiss, but Raf and the ropes held him completely still. He made throaty sounds of protest through the kiss that was drawing and drawing on him --- and then something else totally weird was happening. Images and emotions from Sam's life ran through his mind, uncalled for, impossibly against his will. None of it was his doing at all!

Sam forgot the kiss. He struggled desperately, wrenching his hands and head uselessly, rocking his whole body trying to dislodge the Vampire in his lap as 100% pure candy assed terror filled him.

Memories flickered through his mind. He was a baby and someone with yellow eyes smiled down at him.

He was five and giggling as Dad tossed him up into the air and caught him on the way down.

He was nine, and Dean was tickling him so hard he could hardly breathe.

He was fourteen and helping Dad and Dean clean weapons.

He was sixteen and packing his stuff, ready to leave town for another hunt.

He was … How could someone see inside his mind? At his private thoughts; at his life? Panic swelled inside him making his chest feel tight...

He was seventeen and spreading salt over the bones of Jeff Casey.

He was feeling like two people - partly himself and partly Raf. He could _feel_ Raf's coldness, his undead body blending with his own; his intense emotions, his bitterness, his pain and longing and the sense of a vast, vast history that the Vampire blocked from him.

Sam's life – his essence, his feelings and memories flickered through both their minds like an open book. He didn't know how to block Raf from looking at his memories, but he wanted to. Wanted to so bad.

He was eighteen, and thinking about his future as he looked out of the Impala's window ...

He was twenty two and kissing Jess … .

The kiss softened, became more sensual. Sam wanted to throw up. His memories of Jess were precious, the only ones he'd ever have of her. And Raf was _in_ them, violating them, experiencing a kiss that he had shared with Jess and --- and recreating it now with him.

Sam was trapped. He _couldn't_ shift Raf away, couldn't stop this, and he was horrified... .

Violated.

Terrified.

Hurt.

Losing it … . Jess and Raf were deepening the kiss … so good … so right ….

Jess / Raf were running fingers through his hair, shifting her body so gently against him … .

Sam tried to twist free. Tried to move. '_No! Don't do this. Get out!_' He screamed inside his mind.

Losing it … Jess ran a hand slowly down his chest …

Raf / Sam were _loving_ the kiss. So beautiful, so sensual, feeling the heat rising in their bodies, wanting more ... needing … .

NO! Sam sent a burst of power through his mind and flung Raf across the room. He gulped breath after breath of precious air into his lungs, realising somehow, that he hadn't breathed since Raf had started the kiss a lifetime ago.

Raf stared back at him in astonishment and lithely climbed back to his feet.

Sam panted, pulling his head back together somehow. Pulling his Jess safely inside his mind again. His heart beat pounded loudly in his ears and for a few moments he could hear the rush of his blood as it flowed through his veins with every thunderous heartbeat. For a moment he could feel the coldness of being a Vampire. "You … bastard ..."

The pain in Sam's head doubled then, redoubled and redoubled, and Sam couldn't even spare the breath for a scream before the pain seemed to explode in his brain, and he gratefully passed out.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Well there you are. Please review and tell me what ya think.


	3. Chapter 3

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam woke with a moan of pain. His head throbbed like a son-of-a-bitch in time with each pulse beat, aching all over, like heat stroke and a migraine mixed together with a grade two concussion. It took him a while to fight back the overwhelming pain before he could think again; before he could remember what had been happening.

He remembered in flashes. Cold tiles. Tied hands. Vampires. Raf on his thighs – kissing, _taking_ ...

Sam blinked his eyes open cautiously, fighting back nausea and vertigo. Focussed on a door knob until the room stopped swaying. He was in a different room.

God; a bedroom, and he was lying on a king size bed, still only wearing his jeans. He tried to get up but felt his leg drag heavily. A quick glance showed he was manacled to a long slim chain attached to a heavy oak bedpost. Sam stared at the manacle. Damn it, when was he gonna remember to stick a paper clip or two into his pockets like Dean did.

Silk curtains swished with a light breeze coming through the window. It was late, nearly dark outside. Sam turned his head, scanning by habit, despite what it cost him in pain. Raf was seated quietly on a divan by the bed, reading.

"Naaah!" Sam was off the bed and backing away before he even thought about it. The chain rattled and dragged at his foot. His heartbeat went from slumber rate to panic rate in a matter of seconds. Sam was looking for a weapon, anything to fight the Vamp off. But there was nothing but the long chain at his ankle. Quickly he had it wrapped around his hands ready to defend himself, but the whole effect was spoiled when he swayed dizzily and had to slump with his back against the wall for support.

Raf locked his green eyes with Sam's, a small grin of amusement dancing at his lips. He leaned over and dialled the dimmed wall light brighter. "Good evening, Samuel."

Sam blinked at him, replaying in his sluggish mind the last thing he could remember. Raf had kissed him - on the mouth, and he'd pushed Raf away - with his mind, when he'd – when he'd...? He frowned, dredging up the memory. When he'd stolen a precious memory of Jess and … ruined it. His heartbeat picked up more speed until he was panting and for the first time since a hunt when he'd been ten, Sam found himself struggling to fend off a panic attack. "You bastard!" Sam gave a tug at the restraints. He wanted to hit the creep until he died. Wanted to take back the tainted memory and make sure the creep never touched anything or anybody again.

Raf smiled, completely unconcerned. "With most humans, all I get are vague impressions, vague truths, but with you, Samuel with you it was, ohhh … sooo good. I'd almost forgotten how good it felt to kiss as a human would, to _feel_ such incredible heat." His smile widened rakishly, as he eyed Sam up and down. "I'll have to try that again soon, perhaps with a more … detailed memory."

Sam was shaking his head. "No, no, no ..." He wanted to yell at the bastard – wanted to have a full on hysterical melt down. But his head was killing him and he found himself sliding down the wall as his vision started to darken.

The next thing he knew, Raf had scooped him up, arms under his knees and shoulders and carried him back to the bed like a child. Raf's touch shocked him back to consciousness again, and he took a swing at Raf which missed by miles, Raf caught his wrists in one hand and pinned then effortlessly above his head to the head board, and no amount of tugging at them helped to loosen the grip at all.

Sam cursed his body. He couldn't afford to pass out with Raf anywhere near him. But his body was thankful for the cool sheets and was weakening – wanting to slip into healing unconsciousness. Sam stopped tugging at his hands and instead conserved his strength to fight back the rising tide of blackness, terrified that once he was out, Raf would invade his mind again. Somehow, that terrified him a whole lot more than the fact that he was trapped in a place full of blood sucking Vampires.

Raf sat on the side of the bed, leaned closer and brushed Sam's hair out of his face with his free hand, looking intently down at him with his Deany eyes. "You have demon blood inside you, don't you, Samuel?"

Sam gave the smallest twitch of surprise and tried to hide his mistake with a show of disbelief – a look of 'what the hell have you been drinking ... besides me, that is ...?' But one look at Raf's satisfied smile showed him that it hadn't worked. Sam felt his heart thunder painfully against his ribs.

"You don't need to answer, boy. I learned the truth. I know about the yellow eyed demon as well."

"How did you … ? What did you _do_ to me?"

Raf lifted a sculptured eyebrow. "Perhaps you've never encountered an elder Vampire before?"

Sam let his head drop down to the bed wearily, feeling a long explanation coming. His head hurt too much to hold up for any length of time anyway. Concussion injuries really were the pits. But then, maybe it was having someone else messing around _inside_ his head that was causing the massive headache. Sam concentrated on getting the swaying room to stop moving so much while he listened and struggled to stay conscious. Struggled not to panic. Struggled not to show how completely freaked out he was. Struggled not to show how terrified he was to be anywhere near this Vampire.

Raf smiled again combing his fingers through Sam's hair possessively. "When a Vampire survives into his eight or nine hundredth year, he can develop - with about fifty years of dedicated discipline, - additional – gifts, such as the ability to see into the minds and memories of humans. A difficult gift to learn and use properly and unpleasant for the most part, although it has helped me to enrich myself financially," he stroked a finger lightly across Sam's cheek to brush lazily at his lips. "Human lives are all so brief and twisted and tortured with their little guilts and vices. It's not pleasurable to look into the minds of humans, and it is not something I have had to do for many decades, although ...," Raf's eyes focussed intently upon Sam. "Your mind is different - so clear, so powerful and rather enjoyable, young Samuel – or should I call you, 'Sammy'?"

Sam's jaw clenched tight. Oh geez, he wished Dean was here to get him out of this – what ever this was turning into. He hadn't been scared before when he'd known he was about to die; but now; now, he was so terrified that he was practically wetting himself.

The finger stroked more sensuously over Sam's lips. Raf's voice was soft and seductive. "I know all about you Sam. How you're all alone in the world – except for your brother, Dean."

Sam snapped his head around and glared. "You leave my brother alone," he snarled, yanking hard at his captured wrists again, but he might as well have had them in a vice for all the good it did him.

The finger moved to trace Sam's jaw line. Raf's eyes narrowed, looking inwards as he remembered what he had seen in Sam. "He's hurt you recently. A secret that he kept from you, has unsettled you – frightened you - badly."

Sam's eyes widened.

"Your father told Dean that he had to protect you – save you – but that if he couldn't save you then he has to …" Raf's head bent to whisper the last words intimately into Sam's ears. "Kill you." Raf straightened and looked down at Sam in sympathy. "Now what kind of father would say something like that, especially when he knew that they would be his last words. I do have to say, having tasted your memories, that I am most _sorely_ tempted to turn you Sammy if only to save you from your fate and from your brother."

Sam turned his head away. Maybe it was the headache or the concussion, but for a moment, he grasped at the idea of being turned into a Vampire, thinking it offered a solution to his problems – a better one than the suicidal ones he'd been contemplating. Only for a moment though. If he became a Vamp, his brother would _still_ hunt him, and Sam would _still_ be a monster too. It was just that - he was grasping for straws, desperate to escape whatever future his dad had seen for him.

"The interesting part is that you want to _leave_ your brother – the one that you love more than anybody in the world. You want to leave him, not because your afraid that he'll kill you if you do something wrong, but because your brother will be in pain if he's forced to kill you. You don't care about your own suffering – but you _do_ care if your brother suffers." Raf ran his cold hand slowly and sensuously over Sam's chest ignoring Sam's attempt to yank his wrists free again. "That's part of the reason why you want to leave your brother. That's also why you didn't complain when I threatened your life, Sammy." Raf looked down intently, seeking confirmation in Sam's expressive face.

This time Sam kept himself from giving anything away, although he didn't know why he was bothering. Raf already knew practically everything.

"I suppose you're wondering why you're still alive, Samuel. After all, I _did_ tell you that you were about to die for hunting our kind."

Sam pulled his head impatiently away from the stroking fingers, and had a Dean-like moment of sarcasm. Yeah, he had been wondering, sort of, around the pain from the concussion _and _finding he'd been kidnapped by a nest of Vampires. He'd had _hours_ to think about it, while he was unconscious. But it wasn't as high on his priority list as trying to figure out what to do about a Vamp that seemed a little too touchy - feely, and that could look into his god-damned brain, for crapin' sake!

Raf released Sam's wrists and moved back to the divan again, picking up his book. "I don't like to disappoint my family; they were all looking forward to sharing you."

"They're not your 'family'," spat Sam, "They're the victims that you turned into Vampires."

Raf's smile was icy. "That's a matter of perspective, Samuel. From my point of view, my family are those that I _saved_ from dying a slow death." He stared off into space for a moment dredging up ages worth of memory. "I've had many families since I was turned all those centuries ago, Samuel. But there have _always_ been hunters like you taking my chosen kin away. You take and take and take until we are almost an extinct species." He hissed, angry at the memories. "Do you have any idea how few of us remain, Samuel?"

Sam turned away, not really interested. He shifted on the bed, pushing experimentally at the manacle around his ankle with his other foot.

"But now, you will help us to rectify that problem, Sammy."

Sam's head spun back to look at Raf again, his attention effectively recaptured.

Raf smiled and waved the book that he had in his hands. "This book is a copy of a scroll I found centuries ago in the Celsus Library in Turkey. It was supposedly written by a worshipper who once sat at the feet of one of the thousand Gods of the Hittites. I have spent decades ensuring that all other references and copies of the scroll are destroyed, so I doubt that any hunters today know anything about it." He opened the book to a bookmarked page. "You'd find it most interesting, since it accurately describes Vampires, their origins and almost all of the lore surrounding them. Did you know that the first Vampire – the very first one was a hunter?"

Sam frowned at Raf, wondering where this was going. It was hard to concentrate, with his head thumping the way it was and his vision blurring in and out. He was fading again, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. It was only his fear of Raf that was keeping him in the land of the conscious.

Raf moved back to the bed again, stroking the spine of the book slowly down Sam's chest to a point just below his navel, ignoring the way that Sam tried to push him away. "There's a particular – ceremony - described in the book. Something ... incredible, that can only be performed once a year - for a few hours - on a certain night. If this had been referenced in any other book; if I hadn't just experienced how different blending with you was compared to any other human, I would not believe it."

Raf smiled, looking down at Sam, watching him struggle to stay conscious. " This ceremony requires something _very_ rare, something I thought could never exist. It requires a hunter with demon blood in his veins." Raf moved blindingly fast. His face centimetres from Sam's in an instant. "You're going to participate in this ceremony, Sam." Raf's lips brushed across Sam's again, and then in a blur, before Sam could even begin to fight, he was gone again, standing by the bedroom door.

"The chain is long enough for you to use the bath room when you need to," said Raf nodding to another door. "I suggest you use it now before you go to sleep. Nathanial will be in shortly to sedate you. In a few hours you'll be moved to an isolated house that I own where you will remain until the ceremony is completed."

Raf opened the door and hesitated, green eyes locking onto Sam's again for a moment, before tracing over Sam's body. He licked at his lips. "I'm very much looking forward to performing the ceremony with you, Sam," he said, and smiled before turning and closing the door behind him.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

_**This chapter is being posted EARLY as my family are gonna be away for a few weeks. So next chapter may take a while - sorry. Hope you'll all still be interested in this story by then. Hope you all feel like reviewing as well .... Merry Christmas and have safe and happy holidays.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm baa-aack! Had a great holiday. Hope you all did too! Pleeeease review for me - it brings in new chapters faster - honest!!_

_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN_

"Gas inspector!" called Dean, outside another door on another floor.

This was the forty seventh door he'd knocked on. Most people were home now, and after a quick check around, waving some doohickey in the air he'd smile and tell them everything looked fine, no gas detected in the air, and head for the next apartment. He'd only had to break in three times so far, and he had return trips planned for four other apartments that'd had too much traffic in the halls to risk a go with the skeleton keys. A quick look around for anything hinkey like a missing brother, or something vampish and he was out again.

He was moving as fast as he could with the search. He didn't want to think he was too late. Didn't want to risk being too late if he could prevent it – so he moved fast, trying to block the images of Vampires sucking out his brother's blood, trying not to think that Sam could be dead. Dean felt his breathing hitch up again with barely suppressed panic. He _had_ to focus. Don't think about the fact that you're probably too late. Don't think about how you're working on a shaky lead. Especially don't think about how they've had Sammy for nearly eight hours. Don't think about the next building you've got to search after this one. Don't think - just focus.

So door number forty seven – the penthouse no less. Dean took a deep steadying breath and knocked on the door again.

Focus.

There was no answer to his calls or the doorbell either. Dean pulled out his skeleton keys and unlocked the door. The lights were all out, the apartment dark and quiet. He lifted his torch warily. There was no movement – no nothing, just a large entry hall with a private elevator. A study off to the side was empty save for a desk. A huge vase sat on a Roman style pedestal in the middle of the hall. Three sealed cardboard boxes sat on the floor next to a linen basket stuffed half full with dirty laundry.

It looked like someone was moving out. The owners were probably down with the rental moving truck that Dean had seen in the underground car park when he'd first arrived.

Dean took a few steps forward. This was probably the wrong place. A quick once over and he'd be gone ... Then his torch light lit up on a long wooden chest that was awkwardly placed beside the elevator. Dean took a step closer and shone the torch inside. It was empty except for a blanket and an oxygen bottle complete with mask. Dean stared at it, feeling his heart rate pick up. Oh yeah, definitely something hinkey.

Dean pulled his collapsible crossbow out from under his jacket. It had been _the_ most awkward thing to go on an inspection tour with - hidden in his clothing, but Dean had had a strong feeling that he was gonna need to keep it handy. He got it ready and checked the quiver was still full of bolts.

He also had a machete which he'd strapped to his leg. For the most part it had been ignored by the residents, only receiving one curious gaze from a guy four floors down. The handle of it could pass for another tool and people couldn't see the business end of it in the sheath. His right pocket held six spare bolts all with dead man's blood on them, hopefully he'd have time to reload the crossbow between shots. Otherwise he'd have to try stabbing them with the bolts in his pocket, shooting them with his gun or beheading them with the machete. Overkill maybe, but one look at the swish apartment buildings on the street and Dean had known he wasn't dealing with your average nest of Vamps; he'd brought along every weapon he could.

Four hallways led off into other rooms. Dean kept his back to the wall as he checked each one. Most of the furniture was undisturbed, some of it covered with sheets. Black, slippery tiles muffled the sounds of his steps, but he wasn't being overly cautious there. If there were Vamps around, they would have heard him no matter how quietly he moved.

The library was emptied of most of the books. There were just over a dozen novels left lying on the shelves and interestingly, two were Vampire novels.

The kitchen had been cleared of perishable food. The fridge had been turned off, all the dishes were packed away.

The laundry was empty, a dusty patch showing where the laundry hamper was usually kept.

The lounge room was bigger than most houses that Dean had lived in. Heavy burgundy drapes blocked every bit off light from outside. There were sleek black leather lounges with red satin cushions scattered on them. A stack of white sheets sat on the arm of one of the lounges. A huge Persian rug lay in the middle of the floor by a sleek stainless steel pole. Huh - looked like one of those poles the girls in strip bars danced around – out of place here, and he wondered why it was there. He shifted past it, concentrating on the job.

Five bedrooms, each with king sized beds, separate bathrooms, and a separate sitting room all done up in that black or red velvety stuff. The wardrobes and mahogany dressers were all emptied. Man, the place screamed money. He was down to the last of the rooms, not expecting to find anything when he heard the moan.

Dean felt his pulse quicken. In the back of his mind he was screaming a litany of: 'not too late, Sammy's okay, not too late, Sammy's okay.' He toed the doorway open, slipped through the sitting room and saw the blanket shrouded figure tucked into the bed. It moved, moaned again. An out of place clinking sound had Dean lifting the crossbow and the torch high. A chain was attached to the bedpost, the other end of it snaking beneath the blankets. The face was turned away, half hidden by messy brown hair, tumbled sheets and pillows. Dean held his breath, eyeing the form, moved around the room trying to see the face in the dark and with each step, his brain see-sawed between a new litany of: 'it is him, it isn't him, it is him, it isn't'.

Dean twitched the sheet away with the end of the crossbow. Sammy! Dean was on the bed, lifting the shoulders, claiming back his brother with a hug, and nearly overwhelmed by the feeling of relief that poured through him as he felt Sam's steady heartbeat against his chest. He hadn't been turned, thank God. He was still Sammy. He'd gotten to Sammy in time.

"I'm here, Sammy. I got you. You okay?" he whispered.

Sam didn't stir, his head flopped loosely against Dean's shoulder. Dean patted at Sam's cheek but Sammy was showing no signs of waking any time soon. He looked Sam over critically. He'd been stripped to his shorts. His skin was pale. There was a bite mark on his neck, but strangely, only the one bite mark. Maybe one of the Vamp's had singled Sammy out for a private meal. Strange. Not the usual thing for Vamp's. From what he had seen they liked to share their meals amongst family members. Then again he hadn't come across that many Vamp nests before – certainly no upmarket ones like this one.

Dean pulled back more of the blankets. "Dammit." A urine bag was taped to Sam's leg with a catheter inserted into Sam's body, confirming what the long chest by the elevator was supposed to be used for. Sammy would have hated that. Dean could imagine Sam freaking out when he woke up in that thing – like a corpse in a coffin.

He did a rapid check up on Sammy. Livid bruises left by vampire fingers covered him here and there in patterns of four and five and had Dean clenching his teeth in anger. There were no broken bones; but there was a bandaged head wound that looked nasty. No other injuries that he could find to explain Sammy's limp state.

Then he found the needle marks on Sammy's arm.

Dean cursed softly and shook himself. He had to get Sam out and sooner rather than later. He lay Sammy back down and worked quickly on the manacle. He only just got it undone when he heard the elevator ping.

Dean snatched up the crossbow and was out and across to the entry hall in moments.

"Last of the boxes. Jeez, I'm gonna miss this place. I _hate_ Rugby."

"Do we have to check the kid again?"

"No, did that last time. Let's just get this other stuff into the truck and then we can do a last check of the place before Raf packs the kid."

Dean's finger tightened on the crossbow. He sooo wanted to shoot these bastards. Nobody packed Sammy up like so much luggage. Dean felt the heat of anger rising in his cheeks.

"I'll check the place now."

"'kay, Steven."

Dean heard the quiet woosh of elevator doors.

Footsteps. Heading off in another direction.

Dean followed as quietly as he could. He spotted the figure heading for the kitchen. Stevie had short light brown hair gelled into spikes and wore creaky leather clothing.

Dean was sure that it was the creaky clothes that allowed him to get so close to the Vamp without it hearing him. But the next second, the crossbow was sent flying; there were tight fingers wrapped around his neck and a mouth full of fangs heading for his throat. Dean was slammed up into the corner by the fridge, nearly losing his balance. He shoved his forearm under the Vamp's throat keeping the fangs from getting closer and swung with the machete, but the wall was in the way and the angle was all wrong. He struck it on the side of the head with the handle of the machete instead.

The Vamp hissed but it didn't loosen it's grip, and despite Dean's forearm under it's throat it was getting closer and closer with it's fangs.

Dean hit it again and again feeling the creatures fingernails digging into his skin, despite the double layer of collars under it's fingers. It snarled at him, showing off the vicious fangs. Dean hit harder, desperation giving him added strength. The Vamp was weakening under the assault, but so was Dean. He desperately needed to breathe. Dean dropped the machete and groped at his pocket for the spare crossbow bolts. No way was he gonna pass out and leave Sammy to the Vampires.

The Vampire smiled a triumphant fang filled smile as the machete clattered to the floor. Dean lifted his knee and slammed it right up where it lived – or not. It groaned, bending just that little bit in pain. Dean stabbed it in the stomach with the bolt, and watched as the triumphant grin faded and the eyes rolled up. Stevie's head slammed into the edge of the fridge before he crumpled to the floor.

Dean rubbed weakly at his sore throat, gulping in lungfuls of air. He'd be lucky if he could speak after that neck crush. He scooped up the machete and lifted it high ready to decapitate the son of a bitch and then thought of something better. He dragged the body back to the hall and dumped it into the box, stuffing the Vamp's mouth with cloth. He hit it one more time on the head with the oxygen bottle just to make sure it wasn't gonna wake up any time soon. Then he sealed the box.

The display on the wall showed that the elevator was still in the basement. Dean reckoned he had five minutes, maybe seven - tops.

He tucked his tools into his clothes as he raced back to Sammy. He wrapped his brother in a sheet and hauled him up over his shoulder. He was out of the apartment and heading down the stairs in seconds.

It took him nearly four minutes to get down to the ground floor. He poked his head out into the foyer, trying hard to muffle his panting breaths and waited for the main elevator door to finish closing behind a pretty girl with very long legs. Then he slipped out, smashed in the cover over the fire alarm buttons and pressed it before racing through the fire exit door leading out into an alley way where he had parked the Impala. Sam was dropped onto the back seat and Dean got the Impala on the road and out of there faster than you could say 'Vampire's are dead meat'.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Raf waited for the elevator doors to open. There was only the hunter to be moved now, and concealed in the box, no snooping neighbour would think anything out of the ordinary was happening. Crystal and Nathanial slipped passed him to snatch up the laundry hamper, and the last box. Nathanial dragged a trolley with him to move the chest.

"Steven?" called Raf. He noted with a frown that the chest for moving Samuel had already been sealed shut. He had wanted to see Samuel safely packed away himself. He didn't want any carelessness on the part of his kin damaging his prize human hunter.

Nathanial started humming as he positioned the trolley beside the chest. He picked it up and placed it onto the trolley easily. He didn't really need a trolley to move the chest. Crystal could have carried the chest down to the truck without too much difficulty, but in keeping with Raf's rules about not letting anyone suspect that they were Vampires, he hid his strength by using the trolley.

Raf watched Nathanial move the chest. He looked up with a frown, feeling the hair at his neck lift. There was something not quite right.

"Steven?" Raf called again, tuning into the sounds of the apartment as he made his way past Steven's room and on towards his own room where Samuel had been kept. There was nothing, no sounds at all, besides Crystal's movements. Raf paused by his own bedroom door. Samuel had indeed been removed without his permission, but once again there was no sign of Steven.

A scent.

Raf closed his eyes and sniffed the air carefully. A human scent – one that did not belong in this place.

Raf was moving faster than he'd had to move in decades. He was back in the entry hall in moments and ripped the lid off the chest with his bare hands. It was almost ironic that the buildings fire alarms chose that moment to blare out a warning.

"Steven!" squealed Crystal, wide eyed. She fell to her knees beside the chest and pulled him out onto the floor.

Nathanial hissed in anger as he snatched at the bolt buried beneath Steven's ribs. He yanked it out, and flung it back into the chest hard enough for the bolt to penetrate the wood.

Raf didn't wait to see how Steven fared. He raced across to the lounge room and ripped open the drapes, oblivious to the sting of sunlight against his skin. He spotted the black Impala pulling out of the alleyway and heading out into the evening traffic. The same Impala he had seen at the gas station where he had snatched Samuel.

Crystal stepped up beside him. Her voice was soft but contained hells own fury within it. "Dead man's blood. Someone used dead man's blood on my Steven."

Raf watched the Impala until it disappeared down the street. "Get Benjamin to drive the truck to the house. Everyone else is to come with me." He turned, ignoring the way Crystal backed cautiously away from the fury in his eyes. "I want Samuel back. I don't care how long it takes or how much money we need to spend, but I want Samuel and whoever took him. We hunt them until we find them and I want them both alive."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hi guys, I'll be in Queensland for about two weeks so I'm posting an extra long chapter early. Sorry. But don't let that stop you from reviewing! I'm hoping to make it into an internet cafe and check what you think of the story - and if I__'m getting lots of delicious comments I'll work my butt off to post early again - promise! _**

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean drove the Impala up and down the streets of Roseburg.

He had hoped that Sammy would be awake by now.

Dean had gotten Sammy out without too much trouble and since then, he'd been driving around Roseburg hoping Sammy'd wake up. That had been done over an hour ago though, and after the day he'd been having he was feeling more than a little seedy. Still, he kept driving.

He really needed to pull up somewhere; check Sammy's vitals and get him dressed or something. But he kept driving. He wasn't sure if it was the gut feeling he had that something wasn't quite right, or if it was just a case of him being so glad that he'd gotten Sammy out in one piece when he'd expected a whole lot worse.

He kept shooting anxious glances into the back seat where Sleeping Beauty lay, still dressed only in his underwear and wrapped in a sheet and a blanket. He was still out cold and there was no sign that the situation was gonna change any time soon. Those damned Vamps must have really drugged him up. They'd been about to seal Sammy up inside a box, ready to be loaded up in the back of a truck like a piece of furniture. He was so glad that he'd gone with his gut feeling and moved as fast as he could that day. He hated to think what might have happened if he'd taken even five minutes longer to find Sammy.

Dean slammed a hand against the steering wheel. The whole situation was off. Vampires – at least all the ones they'd come across, either turned their victims into Vamps - on the spot, or they drained 'em dry - on the spot. They didn't _ever_ pack their meals to go! It made no sense.

At the very best, he'd been expecting to find Sammy with some serious blood loss issues – not _bandaged_ up and with only minor blood loss. He was willing to bet that one of the Vamps had medical knowledge too. Whoever gave Sammy the drug cocktail, had known exactly what they'd been doing, and the head wound had been treated by a pro.

No, these weren't your usual type of Vamps. And anything unusual, when it came to the supernatural, made him nervous.

Very, _very_ nervous.

That was probably why he was _still_ tensed up, _still_ driving around aimlessly, checking every damned dark spot for hidden Vamps.

The few Vamps that they'd come across lived on the fringes, moving from place to place before people got suspicious about the rise in missing persons in the area.. They'd never come across any that lived the classy life, settled right in the middle of a city on a long term basis. These Vamps – well, weird didn't really cover it.

Dean blinked his weary eyes. He really should stop somewhere and get some clothes onto Sammy. But so far, he hadn't come across any places that were dark, quiet and unpopulated enough to risk it – not, at least, any place that his gut approved of. Besides, trying to get his big gangly legged Sasquatch of a brother into some clothes, while he lay limp as a rag doll in the back seat of the Impala, was not something he was looking forward to.

Dean shot another glance over his shoulder. He was gonna worry himself into some early grey hairs waiting for the princess to wake up. He yawned – a real jaw breaker of a yawn. Man, coming off a huge adrenalin rush sure backfired on his energy levels sometimes. He needed a solid meal, followed by some good quality sleep time. And Sammy needed rest and recovery time on a proper bed, not in the back of the Impala.

"Sammy?" called Dean loudly. "You waking up any time soon?" There was nothing – not so much as a twitch from his brother. Dean's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes scanned the road in front of him. His gut was _still_ telling him that things were dangerous. He'd need to talk to Sammy about it; get his input on the whole thing. He wasn't gonna rest properly until he felt safer, and that wasn't gonna happen until they'd either left Roseburg or Sammy gave him enough information to calm his gut down. The Vamps had probably given Sammy enough drugs to keep him out for the rest of the night and then some. He sighed resignedly and drove until he found a quiet motel about forty minutes out of town. Once he got Sammy back on his feet they'd be ideally situated here for hunting that whole damned nest of brother stealing Vampires out of existence.

The reception desk backed onto a lounge room with the TV turned on. A lady in her late forties wearing a dressing gown came out stiffling a yawn.

"Evening, maam." said Dean with one of his smiles. "Sorry to drag you out here so late. I'd like a room with twin queen size beds on the ground floor for me and my brother if you have one."

The lady put a pair of pink framed glasses on and bent over her log book. "Does it have to be on the ground floor?"

Dean grimaced. "Yeah if you've got something, I have to help him in."

The lady raised her eyebrows and peered at him over the top of the pink frames.

"Buck's night, you see," explained Dean. "The guys got a little overly enthusiastic, and , well, Sammy will need a day or three to get over what ever they gave him, you know - away from our parents." Dean's stomach growled loudly and he glanced down at it ruefully. "Plus ahh, I don't suppose you've got some sandwiches or something? I spent so much time looking out for my brother tonight that I forgot to eat."

The lady fell for it hook line and sinker and smiled sympathetically. "Best I can do is a room with one queen and a single on the ground floor. Diner's closed until six, but I think Ralphy might have left some pie behind, if that suits you."

Dean reached out for the keys, giving her a genuinely grateful smile. "Ma'am, that'd be just perfect."

Hauling Sammy's Sasquatch body into the motel room was something he didn't want to have to do again any time soon. Next time Sammy chose salad over burgers he wasn't gonna tease him about the sissy excuse for food. If Sammy got any heavier than he was now, he'd never be able to lift him.

A more careful check over of Sammy's body showed no more damage that he hadn't already seen. He took care of the catheter and the gross urine bag just like he'd done before when they'd needed to get out of hospitals early. The bump on the head was pretty nasty but they'd both had worse. Dean caught himself in the act of nodding off, sitting next to Sammy's half naked body. He took a deep breath, hauled himself up and covered Sammy with some blankets.

The pie went down and he drank something as he hauled in their gear and locked up. Finally, he settled himself back into a wicker chair that he'd pulled around to the side of Sammy's bed. He sighed contentedly, debated getting up and brushing his teeth, showering, and then catching some TV while he watched over Sammy … . Yeah, lots to do, right after he rested his eyes for a moment ... .

Dean woke with a jolt. Sammy was moaning. By the time Dean had his eyes all the way open, Sammy was thrashing in the sheets, caught in the mother of all nightmares, and Dean remembered that Sammy didn't know that his awesome big brother had saved his ass again. As far as Sam was concerned, the Vamps still had him.

"Sammy! Sammy? It's me, I've got you. You're okay. You're fine!" Dean wrapped his arms around Sammy's shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

"NO!" yelled Sammy pulling back, panting hard, and then he blinked terrified eyes into focus. "Dean? Oh, thank God, Dean." Sam yanked Dean back into a tight hug and held on for dear life.

Dean felt his heart beat quicken. He'd _never_ seen Sammy so freaked – not since that very first hunt years ago. He held onto Sammy's body, feeling tremors working there way through his brother as he left the nightmare of the past day behind. Damn, Sammy was so scared. It made him wish that he _had_ killed those two Vamps when he'd had them in his sights.

Dean let Sammy hold on, started rocking him gently and stroking his back the way he'd done when Sammy had been little. It took all of five minutes before Sammy let him go. Five whole minutes while Dean got more and more terrified about what those Vamps had done to his brother.

Sammy leaned back against the headboard, drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them tightly - protectively.

Dean did a double take. Sammy looked exhausted. Still pale, nearly white and _really_ freaked out.

Oh crap, thought Dean. Crap, crap crap. "Sammy? What'd they do to you, Sammy, I mean, I've seen you take a lot more damage without you freaking out so bad. What'd those bastards do?"

Sam was quiet for a few seconds, head turned away, lower lip being bitten so hard Dean was surprised that there wasn't any blood. Then Dean paled, "Oh, God Sammy. They didn't --- did they? I mean, you still had your boxers on and I didn't check or anything ---."

Sam shook his head in stiff jerky movements. "Nnno – No, Dean he didn't go that far."

Dean went from pale to red in the face with anger in seconds. He didn't go 'that far' meant that one of those Vamps had tried messing with Sam. There'd be some _serious_ Vampire beheading as soon as Sammy had pulled himself together. And if Sammy wasn't okay, then he'd be calling in Bobby and more of his hunter friends to do the job.

"Who hurt you, Sammy?"

"It's Sam, Dean. Just Sam," said Sam pinching the bridge of his nose. "How'd you find me?"

Dean recognised the ploy right away. "I caught a glimpse of what snatched you and went back over Murphy's notes." Dean locked eyes on Sammy. "Don't change the subject Sammy, I want to know who hurt you?" He waited. Normally he'd offer pain meds when his brother scrunched his face up and did the nose pinch thing, but if he got distracted now Sammy would never tell him what had happened.

Sam sighed. There was no getting out of it. He'd have to tell Dean about Raf – about everything. Raf was an 'unknown' in the hunter world, at least as far as he knew. That sort of stuff had to be shared around or some other hunter would fall victim to the unknown. "Raf," said Sam looking anywhere but at Dean. "His name was Raf." Sam took another deep breath and closed his eyes, pulling together the information into his still fuzzy brain.

Dean waited patiently. But the more he saw how upset Sam was, the madder he was getting.

"Raf's an elder Vamp," said Sam. "Means he'd been around for about a thousand years. He's got more powers that other Vampires we've come across and he's got a book. He said he found it centuries ago and he's destroyed all the other copies of it that he could find."

"Hold on, hold on. This Vampire has _more_ powers? What powers?"

Sam looked away, fidgeted with a corner of the bed linen. "He – gets up close and personal and he can read your mind."

Dean was silent for a few moments, eyes wide. "Read your mind? Like --- telepathy? Like that hot chick on Star Trek? How close and personal?"

Sam reddened, his fist clenching on the crisp sheets. "He kissed me."

Dean blinked.

Sammy lost that freaked look for a few seconds – looked like Sammy again – pissed Sammy, but still – Sammy.

"It wasn't like I wanted it Dean, I was tied up at the time. He's really strong and he had me pinned. He's been going after hunters and was gonna kill me and share me with the rest of the nest. Then he tastes my blood, and he knew. He _knew_ I was tainted, Dean. He threw out all the other Vamps, then he said I was too precious to kill and then he kissed me and next thing I know, he's going through my memories like a damned home movie and --- and ---." Sam was trembling again, he turned his face into his knees.

Dean stared. He took a deep breath and unclenched each of his tensed up muscles one at a time. No wonder the kid was freaked. That damned Vamp – Raf. Raf had _raped_ Sammy's mind. He couldn't imagine how bad that had been. Oh, God – how was he ever gonna fix this one? How was Sammy ever gonna be okay again?

Sam was chewing at that lip again, his hands fisted so tight in the sheets that the knuckles were white. He was rocking, arms still around his knees, rocking back and forth.

Dean took it back a step or two – gave Sammy a bit of space. "So … Raf and his nest are hunting Hunters. That's probably what happened to Bobby's friend then." Dean looked over to his cell phone on the table by the door. "I'm gonna hate having to pass on that news to Bobby."

There was silence for a few minutes then. Sammy shifted on the bed and put out a hand to feel at the injury on his head.

"Bad?"

Sammy shook his head. "Concussion, I think. The room won't stop moving. But that mind meld thing – that hurt like three migraines and _the_ worst hangover."

Dean's eyes snapped around. "Didn't damage your brain did it?" he asked anxiously.

Sammy froze – startled by the possibility. "I don't know – I passed out right after, but ---. I don't know – could have been the concussion." Sammy rubbed his forehead slowly. "I could do with some Tylenol maybe ..."

Dean hated to say it: "Dude, you've been drugged. You were limp as a dead cat for about six hours. Can't give you anything until whatever they gave you is completely out of your system."

Sammy nodded, suddenly looking way tired.

"I'll call Bobby; tell him about Murphy and let him know we've got a dangerous nest of Vamps on our hands. How about you get some sleep – might make you feel better."

Sammy shook his head, "I need a shower first," he looked toward the bathroom door like it was on the other side of the planet.

Dean wasn't going to argue. Not after what Sammy had been through. He started to get up, "I'll help you if you like ---."

But Sammy had that scared look on his face again. His hand shot out and stopped Dean in his tracks. "Dean – Raf said he was gonna use me in some sort of ceremony ---" Sam blinked hard, and shook his head trying to shake the last of the fuzziness from the drugs out of his mind.

"What?"

"That book. Ask Bobby if he's heard of a book about Vampire's written by a worshipper to one of the thousand Gods of the Hittites."

"Sammy?"

Sammy frowned in concentration. "Raf. He said that the first Vampire ever was a Hunter. He said that there was a ceremony that could only be performed once a year, that needed a hunter with demon blood inside." Sammy's whole body shuddered. "Dean, he's gonna come after us. He wants me for this ceremony. Wants me bad. He's gonna hunt us down ---."

Dean hurried over to check out the window first. That gut feeling was back again. There was nothing obvious in the dark outside. Nothing but the parking lot and half a dozen cars. Then one of the outside security lights blew, and Dean's heart was in his throat.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

_Feed the writer ...._


	6. Chapter 6

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean turned off all the lights in the room and checked carefully through the window again. He still couldn't see any movement out there. That didn't mean much though. Vampires could move damned fast when they wanted to. He was _sure_ that they hadn't been followed to the motel. He'd been so twitchy after rescuing Sammy that he'd checked their six a half dozen times or more on the road.

He waited ten minutes, watching the parking lot carefully. Watched the sky brighten with impending dawn light.

Nothing.

Then a guy strode out of his motel room, holding a suitcase in one hand and combing his damp hair back with the other hand as he went. He didn't react to the presence of anyone, just climbed into a little black sports car and drove off, sweeping his high beams over the whole car park.

There was still nothing to see. Moments after, an orange cat wandered across the car park toward the diner. It moved like a cat looking for breakfast, not a cat aware of any danger.

Dean waited and watched for another ten minutes before giving up and letting out a relieved sigh. Nothing. There was nothing out there. The tightness in his gut eased. He slowly re-sheathed the machete.

Sammy had grabbed a shotgun from the weapons bag when the security light had blown. He stood in his boxers with his legs spread wide to keep himself upright while he kept aim on the door. Normally, Dean would have milked the funny sight for all it was worth – 'cept that by now, Sammy was white faced and wavering badly.

Dean shook his head. "Sit down Sammy, before you fall flat on your face. I think we're safe." He waved a hand at the window. "I _know_ for sure that nothing was following us on the road to this place, and we're a good forty minutes out of town. I don't think they could pick up on our scent from that distance."

Sammy thought it over for a few seconds and then flicked the safety back on and dropped the weapon back onto the bed. "Fine," he said,. He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair wearily. "I _really_ need a shower, Dean."

Dean opened his mouth to protest and shut it again with a click. With the scare they had just had he'd prefer it if Sammy waited until they were positive things were okay but one look at Sammy's almost desperate expression had Dean caving. He tried not to let Sammy see the concern in his eyes. "If you're sure you can manage on your own, then fine. I'll keep watch just in case, and give Bobby a call."

Sammy nodded his head. He grabbed fresh clothes from his bag and staggered into the bathroom. "Thanks, Dean. I'll be as quick as I can," he murmured.

Dean bit his lip as he watched the bathroom door close. He'd read somewhere once that the first thing most rape victims did was take a shower, like it could wash away the filthy feeling the rape had left them with. The fact that Sammy was reacting like he was, confirmed what he'd thought about the telepathic thing. Sammy was gonna be a mess. How he was supposed to fix it was beyond him.

Dean got out the crossbow again, along with the bolts. He put them on the table where he could grab them fast. He gently twitched the curtain aside again, watching the car park and the street beyond. If anything Vampish dared show it's face within a mile of Sammy it was gonna wish it had never existed.

He thought over everything that Sammy had told him about the Vamps nervously. As soon as he heard the shower start up, Dean grabbed his cell phone and called Bobby.

"You better have one hell of a good reason for waking me up at this hour, boy." said Bobby.

"Sorry Bobby," said Dean without an ounce of sympathy for waking him. Then his voice softened. "Got some bad news. I'm pretty sure that your friend Murphy is dead."

Bobby was quiet for a few seconds and then sighed. "I figured as much. It ain't like him to forget to call. Did ya find out what got him?"

"Vampires," said Dean. "A whole nest of 'em, living the penthouse life right in the middle of Roseburg ..."

"Well, _that's_ unusual. Do you boys need …?"

"Bobby, Sammy's in the shower, so I've only got a few minutes to talk. I want to keep us out of this hunt. We might be in some trouble here."

"I'm listening."

"Sammy got nabbed by them. And you're right, these are not your usual nest of Vamps, Bobby. They've got one by the name of Raf who's something called an elder Vampire …"

"You're kidding ..."

"You've heard about them? No, no never mind. Sammy'll be done soon, I ...."

"What's so darned important that you can't say it in front of Sam?"

"Bobby!" said Dean in frustration, "Just stop interrupting for a minute and I'll tell you. Sammy got nabbed by this elder Vamp, Raf . He's been around that long that he's developed some extra mojo, sort of like telepathy. He went through Sammy's memories like a home movie. Freaked Sammy our badly, Bobby. And I mean, he's _really_ freaked, and probably a good deal messed up too."

"Telepathy? Jeez," said Bobby, softly.

Dean watched a young family out in the car park casually packing their stuff back into the boot of their car. "This Vamp, Raf knows about Sammy's demon blood. He also has this book - something written by a worshipper to one of the hundred hippy Gods or something, and according …"

"Holy! … One of the thousand Hittite Gods?" said Bobby suddenly sounding wide awake. "These Vamps have a copy of the Feya scroll? Are you sure?"

"You've heard of it?" Dean shot a look at the bathroom door as the shower turned off, and hurried on. "Well, this Vamp's got a copy, and according to Sam, there's some sort of ceremony written in it that the Vamp's want to use Sammy in. Something to do with him being a hunter with demon blood in his veins. I think it'd be a bad idea to have Sammy anywhere near this hunt if they're after him for his freaky blood."

"Yeah, I'll agree with you there, 'specially if Sam's messed up. So, what do you want to do?"

"I'm heading over your way with Sammy. You might want to give any local hunters a heads up. The Vamps live in the last apartment building with a penthouse on Cassidy Street. Some or all of them were in the process of moving out, though." Dean watched the family drive off, and chewed at his lip. "Bobby, do you have any idea what this Vamp ceremony could be about?"

"No, no I don't. No-one I know has more than a few snippets of the Feya scroll. It hasn't been seen in centuries. But it's supposed to be _the_ one and only accurate reference on anything to do with Vampires. What ever happens, I want that book."

Sam stepped out of a steam filled bathroom. By the looks of him he'd showered in almost pure hot water.

"That Bobby?" he asked softly, rubbing a towel gingerly over his sore wet head.

Dean nodded. "Okay Bobby, I'll call you back later." Dean closed the cell and eyed his brother surreptitiously. Sam looked a little better after the shower. He'd taken the time to pull himself together a bit. He wasn't shaking anymore and he walked back to the bed without wobbling too much. He only looked a little paler than usual; tired, and the tightness of his brow showed he still had a headache. He'd gotten rid of the dressing on his head wound.

"How's the head?"

Sam lifted a hand to touch the wound gingerly. "Doesn't need a dressing any more," he said firmly.

"That didn't really answer the question."

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam snapped back, without looking up. He dropped back onto the edge of the bed and started stuffing his things back into his bag.

Dean bit back what he wanted to say to that line of crap. Clearly, Sammy had temporarily shut the door on anything to do with the Vamp situation for now. Sammy would talk about it when he was good and ready and not before. Dean knew enough about his brother not to push at it until he was willing. Although – damn it. Telepathy?? Dean shook his head and took a deep breath. "Are you hungry or do you need some more sleep?"

Sam combed a hand through his wet hair, and slumped on the edge of the bed. He didn't look up. "I guess I could do with something to eat," he said unenthusiastically.

Dean nodded. He knew his little brother like the back of his hand, and could see that Sammy was _trying_ to show that he was okay, that Dean didn't have to worry. Fat chance of that, thought Dean, but he'd play along for now, if that's what Sammy needed. "Everything still looks quiet outside. This place has a diner that opens up soon. I'll get cleaned up, and we can go eat there before we head out."

Sammy nodded, still looking everywhere else except at his brother. "What did Bobby say?"

Dean dug around inside his bag and hauled out clean jeans, boxers, a shirt, and his shaving gear. "He's heard of the book. Thinks it's something called the Feya Scroll, only no-one's seen a full copy of it in ages."

"The Feya Scroll."

Dean watched Sammy's hands curl into tight fists on the bed. "Yeah, well," Dean took a breath, eyeing his brother warily. This is where he expected Sammy to hit the roof. "Bobby's arranging for some other hunters to take care of the Vampire nest. Don't think it's a good idea to have you anywhere near 'em." Dean waited, watching his brother warily.

Sam was still for a moment, gazing at the blue carpet. His huffed out a relieved breath and then nodded. "Yeah."

Dean did a double take, and then bent to pull off his boots. Yup Sammy, you're about as 'fine' as a freakin' fruit loop.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Dean made Sammy wait before they stepped out of the room. He wandered around the Impala, looking over the motel car park and as far back into the surrounding tree line as he could. Then he checked around underneath the blown security light carefully. There was nothing out of the ordinary there to explain why the light had blown, but Dean still didn't like it. He didn't believe in coincidences any more than he believed in the tooth fairy. So he went to the diner for breakfast carrying the sheathed machete and a couple of the bolts in each of his pockets, just in case.

They shared a breakfast filled with bacon, eggs and toast at a window overlooking the Impala. Dean watched his brother swallow down two tylenol with his orange juice.

"Still hurts?" he asked with more than a little worry.

"Just the concussion, I think," said Sammy without looking up.

Dean nodded, not believing a word of it. "You know, your eggs would taste a whole lot better if they made it into your mouth."

Sam glanced out at the Impala with a small forced grin. "Eggs and concussions don't mix too well with me."

Dean swallowed down the last of his coffee. "You can sleep it off in the car."

Sammy was up and heading towards the door before the coffee had hit Dean's stomach. Dean was guessing that that meant Sammy wanted to put some space between him and the Vamps, sooner rather than later. Dean, left some money on the table and hurried to catch up.

For the next couple of hours, Sammy was checking the Impala's rear view mirror about every five minutes.

"Will you quit that already?" said Dean after a while in exasperation. He readjusted the mirror. "There hasn't been anything on our tail for the last hour. We've even doubled back once, just to be sure."

Sam turned to look out his side window again with a sigh. "Yeah, okay."

Dean frowned. "You know, not that I'm complaining or anything Sam. But you've been quiet ever since – well, you know, that stuff about Dad. I didn't _want_ to keep it a secret. I never meant to, that is... Ahh crap. It's just … just _complicated_. I'm _so_ not good at this stuff." He glanced over at Sammy.

"S'okay, Dean," said Sammy – still looking out the window.

"Yeah, it's okay. 'Cept. You won't look me in the face half the time, you're too quiet and you're not acting like your usual grouchy self about stuff."

Sam turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Dean waved his hand between the two of them. "I tell you to quit looking out the back window 'cause we know nothings following us, and you say: 'yeah, okay?' That's _so_ not you."

Sam was silent for a minute. He looked at the road ahead with a scrowl and then forced his head around to look at Dean – like it was the hardest thing in the world. "Look Dean, I know I've got some issues … I just need to …. I can't … ." He huffed out a frustrated breath and winced in pain. "Can this wait? I've got a headache." He tucked himself into the corner of the seat and closed his eyes.

Dean glared out the front window at the road. That hadn't gone well. Jeez, he _hated_ chick flick moments. Maybe 'cause he was really, _really_ lousy at them. He needed to sort out the right way to tell Sammy why he'd kept quiet about Dad's last words. Why he'd lied about it. Trouble was, whenever he started having a heart to heart, his tongue just seemed to get tangled up in the words. Dean sighed. He checked their six one more time and hit the accelerator.

Sammy slept right through a stop at a gas station and didn't wake up to the smell of the burger waiting for him on the dashboard, either. Dean called to him a couple of times, and ended up wafting the burger under his nose as he drove. "Come on, wake up Sam, or I'll be eating your lunch."

Sam blinked, and took the burger, staring at it sleepily. "Hey, how long did I sleep?"

"'Bout five hours. Thought you'd never wake up. We crossed into Idaho a while back and stopped for gas twenty minutes ago." Dean didn't mention that he'd locked Sammy into the car while he paid for the Gas and got them some lunch. "There's definitely nothing following us. Guess the Vamps got scared off."

Sam flinched in his seat and took a good long look out the back window, where miles of straight empty road could be seen. He turned forward, thinking hard. "Huh," he murmured putting his relief and puzzlement together into the sound. He took a deep breath and unwrapped the burger.

It took a full Queen tape in the player, followed by Van Morrison and then some Boston before Dean had sorted out what he wanted to say to Sammy. By then, the sun had gone down, and he was feeling the strain of having driven for the whole day after a short nights worth of sleep. Now all he had to do was wait for the right moment to have it out with Sammy. And for that, he had a plan. He pulled up at a motel that he'd stayed at once before. This one had a great restaurant and bar attached to the back.

Sam didn't question the delay, didn't even turn in his seat to give him one of those raised eyebrows of his – a week ago he would have though. Dean wasn't sure if it was because of the Vamps or because of Dad's last words, but he figured they could both do with a good meal first. Sam was always more reasonable after a good meal. And if Dean could get a beer or three past Sammy's lips then Sammy would babble every secret and every worry he had going back a whole decade or more.

The restaurant was crowded for the middle of the week. Some kid was having his eighteenth birthday celebration in one half of the restaurant, and Dean could hardly hear himself speak. The food was good though. Great really. Sammy even had some of his appetite back and downed a steak and salad. He kept looking over at the party though, and every now and then he'd wince at the noise.

"How about a beer Sam? It's probably a lot quieter there than this place."

Sam nodded and they headed out into the night again, walking past the Impala and a pair of identical silver Mercedes Benz's.

Dean's plan was right on track. "You know, this place makes their own beer. I had something called a Munich Dunkel last time and it had this _amazing_ flavour ..."

Dean never saw the fist that caught him under the chin. Never saw the brick wall catch the back of his head either. He sank bonelessly down the wall until only his shoulders and head were still supported against it. He saw black leather boots in front of him with familiar leather pants. Stevie's pants.

There was a struggle going on just feet away. Dean blinked, trying to focus his eyes.

Saw his brother struggling frantically against a Vamp that held him effortlessly pressed up against his chest with a hand covering Sammy's mouth.

Dean's eyes opened wide in horror. He saw the Vamp holding Sammy regard him for a moment with an icy gaze. "Leave that one behind," he ordered nodding at Dean.

"No!" gasped Dean. No, they couldn't take Sammy! Dean fumbled desperately in his pocket for a bolt.

A fist closed over Dean's hand and firmly forced it from his fingers. Dean 's head was turned by a cold hand digging into his jaw. Stevie glared down at him. "Wonder how _you_ like it, hunter," he hissed and drove the bolt deeply into Dean's shoulder.

Dean screamed with pain. Arched up off the ground as the bolt tore into him.

Sammy screamed too. A muffled scream.

Dean tried. Struggled hard against the tide of blackness rolling over him.

Saw another male Vamp injecting something into Sammy's neck.

Saw Sammy's struggles getting weaker.

Saw Sammy's terrified eyes looking at him as Sammy was dragged relentlessly backward into the back seat of one of the silver cars, despite his struggles.

Saw leather boots walking away and disappearing into another car.

Saw the Oregon plates on the cars.

Saw the cars pull away.

Saw a hand that he knew was Sammy's hand, slap onto the back window of one of the cars.

Saw … nothing.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

_Phew, I really did work hard to get this one out AND I made my weekly deadline AND it's a super long chapter AND I ended on a nice cliffie. Anyone gonna send cookies?? Reviews are nice alternatives._


	7. Chapter 7

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

From somewhere, Dean heard voices. Distant voices. It was like listening to a radio or a television in the background.

"I told you, I'd be useful to have around Roger," said an old woman's voice with more than a little satisfaction.

"I know you did, mom," puffed a male's voice.

"After all, what would I _do _in an old people's home. Put him on the sofa," commanded the old lady.

"But there'll be blood everywhere!" protested Roger.

"Then it's a good thing that it's leather, dear. It'll clean.

"Fine, mom," sighed Roger.

Dean heard someone moan from far away.

"Oh the poor dear. Let me see now. Hand me the scissors, Roger." There were snipping sounds. "Why, some scoundrel shot the poor boy with an arrow of some sort!" said the old lady in outrage.

For a while the voices faded away completely. And he wondered who they were worrying over. Arrows could do all sorts of nasty damage ….

Fire! In his shoulder! Man, it hurt!

"Almost there," said the old ladies voice, sounding much louder than before.

"I'm gonna puke," said Roger in a strained voice.

"We've got no time for that, Roger dear. Here, take the arrow."

Dean heard more moaning sounds. A distant part of him recognised that it was himself moaning.

"My, he's lost a lot of blood."

"We should have waited for Cameron and the ambulance, mom."

"Fiddlesticks. You heard what he said, Roger. The accident he's dealing with will take another hour at least."

"Then we should have driven him to the hospital."

"Ohhhh, this boy's got angels watching over him – nothing major in the way of damage here. I can fix this myself. Pass me the antiseptic, dear."

"No mom, you're not a qualified ..."

"Roger dear," said the woman firmly. "I was a surgical nurse for longer than you've been alive. I know what I'm doing."

"I _know_, mom," wined Roger. "But ..."

"He's losing a lot of blood, Roger. Now, I can either let him bleed out all over your sofa or I can stitch him up as good as new and save the boy's life."

"We ought to wait, mom, is all I'm saying. Mike'll be mad we messed with a crime scene and Cameron will be mad you did surgery...."

"This boy did nothing wrong, Roger. He's the victim of an assault. Dang, shine that light over here Roger and stop shaking. Mike'll be looking for the scoundrel that shot him. All he needs to know is where you found this boy. And you know very well, Cameron has a lot of respect for my skills."

Roger moaned. "I can't watch this."

"Still feeling sick, dear?"

"You have no idea, mom."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dreams.

Nice dreams.

Ginny Weaver behind the sports shed.

Kat Bilingsworth in her kid brothers tree house.

Tara Liverton on the bonnet of his Impala. Man, she was one hell of a kisser, but the bright sunshine that was warming his back in the dream was disappearing too fast.

How did it get dark so quickly?

Dean looked up from kissing Tara with a frown, and there was Sammy trying to yell with someone's hand covering his mouth up. Someone was dragging him back into a silver car. Sammy was struggling hard and couldn't break free, and he was looking at Dean with terrified eyes ...

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled and sat bolt upright. "Ow!"

"Now calm down, my boy. The ambulance should be along soon. Not that you need it after the job I did on your shoulder. I'm Margaret Cambridge by the way. It was my son Roger who found you. I don't suppose you'll remember, but some scoundrel shot you, with an _arrow_ of all things. Your head's got an egg sized lump on it too, but it was the shoulder wound that I was worried about. You lost a lot of blood I'm afraid, so it would be best if you calmed down and rested for a while."

Dean stared at her uncomprehendingly. His shoulder hurt. His head hurt, and he was sitting on a sofa with a talkative old lady sitting beside him knitting booties. Dean blinked, trying to bring his scattered thoughts together past the throbbing pain in his head.

"I'm the one that stitched you up, and despite what my son will say, I know what I'm doing. I was a surgical nurse for forty years." She held up her knitting for a moment to check her stitches. "Your wound isn't too serious. It will heal up just fine as long as you take care of it for the next six weeks or so. I'd recommend a sling and no heavy lifting. Of course, you can go see a doctor, pay a wad of money and get told the exact same thing if you would prefer." She frowned at him over the top of her glasses as if daring him to suggest that that was a good idea. "Now, how about you tell me who you are and who this Sammy person is that you were yelling for when ..."

Dean's head nearly exploded with the sudden upload of memories. He leaped up off the sofa and staggered two steps towards the door, before dizziness forced him to stop and lock his legs in place before he passed out.

"Now, I can patch up a wound easy. But I can't replace major blood loss, my boy," said the lady putting down her knitting.

"My brother ..."

"Excuse me?"

"Those bastards stole my brother. Where exactly am I?"

"Your at the Cambridge Motor Inn." The old woman's eyes were as wide as saucers. "Do you mean to tell me, that the same scoundrel responsible for wounding you, has also kidnapped your brother?"

"Oh God," said Dean. "Iv'e got no idea which way they went with him."

"Now, don't you worry. Mike's the local sheriff and he's coming over, soon as he's finished dealing with a car accident on the highway."

Dean took an unsteady step forward. "How long was I out for?"

"Sorry, I'm a tad hard of hearing these days."

"How long was I unconscious, Mrs C?"

"Oh, a little over an hour from when my Roger found you, I believe."

Dean closed his eyes in defeat.

"My, what a thing. We haven't had a kidnapping here in thirty years or more. I hope Roger will be safe. He's gone out to check around the Inn. He wanted to make sure that those scoundrels had gone." She ran a hand over her face. "Oh my. A _kidnapping_ of all things. You must be so worried, and after being hurt like that, and all. I think I'll make up some tea. Nice sweet tea will help, I should have thought of that right away. It's just the thing after blood loss like yours," she picked up a walking stick by her chair and ambled off towards her kitchen.

Dean couldn't think. Sammy was gone again. And he had no way of finding him. No clues. No nothing. Sammy was gone. What was he going to do? Dad would be so disappointed. He'd only left Sammy in his care for a couple of months and look what had happened. How was he going to find Sammy before those Vamps did more awful things to him. God, they'd only had him for half a day and Sammy had nearly fallen apart. He didn't know what to do. He just didn't know what to do. Sammy had been so terrified of these Vamps. Nearly out of his mind terrified, and now, somehow the bastards had him again.

But he'd checked over and _over_ again. He'd been so _sure_ that they weren't being followed. Damn it, what was he gonna do? Well, one thing was for sure, he wasn't gonna stand around doing nothing. Dean let himself out of the door and headed straight for the Impala. How had those bastards picked up their trail? He staggered, took a couple of deep breaths and continued on across the car park. There'd only been the one time, since he'd found Sammy, where anything hinkey had happened, and that had been a damned security light blowing …. Dean felt his steps slow as he got close to the Impala. "No way," he breathed, looking at his car suspiciously. He crouched down and ran his hand under the black trim, working his way carefully around the car.

He found the first tracking device under the rear bumper bar. The second one was hidden under the back left wheel rim. He stared at the two devices and wrapped his fingers around them crushingly. Damn it all to hell! He should have been more suspicious when that security light had blown right outside of their motel room. Those Vamps had been following behind all along.

Dean moved across to the next car in the lot. He slipped both devices under the bumper bar on the little green Ford with Californian plates and went back to the Impala.

He rested his aching head on the steering wheel for a few seconds putting together a plan. First step was to go back to the penthouse, find out who owned the place, maybe pick up some clues as to where they might have been heading. Dean pulled out of the motel car park and turned the Impala onto the road back towards Roseburg.

He started going over everything he could remember about the penthouse. Yeah, there _had_ been a couple of silver Mercedes Benz parked near the moving truck. Dean scrunched up his face trying to dredge up the Oregon plate number he had seen, but all he could remember was a 3 and a 6 and maybe a V. There couldn't be that many silver Mercedes Benz's with Oregon plates on them. Bobby would be able to work on that one. Dean started patting down his pockets hunting for his cell phone.

In the mean time he'd go over ever single detail that he could remember from that penthouse. Anything he'd seen or heard could be a clue. He tried to remember if there had been anything written on the side of the crates or boxes that might help – anything that … . Dean slammed on the brakes and brought the Impala to a screeching halt, right in the middle of the highway.

He remembered.

When the elevator doors had opened back at the penthouse. One of the Vamps had said: '_Last of the boxes. Jeez, I'm gonna miss this place. I hate rugby_.' Rugby as in the place, not the game. There was a small town called Rugby in North Dakota.

Dean spun the car around. Damn. He was maybe two hours behind them. If he put the pedal down and took a few short cuts he'd be able to catch up with them pretty fast. And he was betting that they'd be driving the whole night through to make it before sun light started stinging their Vampire skins. If they were watching the tracking device signal then the Ford he'd stuck the devices onto would probably be heading down south instead. They'd think he'd given up, so the element of surprise was back on his side of the ball court.

"Sammy, I'm coming to get you - again." Dean let out a tired sigh. If he got Sammy back in one piece this time, he'd have to have a serious talk with the kid about avoiding getting nabbed two days in a row. Yeah, that way, Dean could maybe get some more sleep in between kidnappings.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Many thanks for all the great reviews guys. I'm sending you another chapter early to say thanks! I just couldn't leave Dean like that after all. Reviews make me write faster - did you notice??


	8. Chapter 8

Sam was deeply asleep.

Some part of him tried to wake up, but his body seemed to be so tired, and his mind barely had the energy for thought. He dreamed of places they had been to; dreamed of friends made and lost.

A distant part of him could hear the car engine purring smoothly. The familiar sensation of the bumps in the road were rocking him, making him even more sleepy. A hand stroked over his hair brushing it out of his eyes, lightly caressing his cheek. Sam murmured contentedly, twisted a little to ease the discomfort of his hands and tumbled back into yet another dream …

_They were in an abandoned warehouse. "Dude, what are we doing here?" asked Sammy. He turned to look at his brother._

_Dean had a gun. _

_Dean had a gun and there were tears in his eyes as he gazed at Sam. "I'm sorry, but dad warned me. You did the wrong thing and now I have to kill you, Sammy."_

_Sam stared wide eyed at his brother and backed away from him shaking his head frantically; watched his brother aim the gun at his head. "Oh God no, Dean. Please. What did I do? WHAT DID I DO?"_

_A tear dripped from Dean's determined eyes. The gun fired …_

Sam's body jolted, nearly woke, but with a weary, agitated murmur, he recognized the nightmare for one he'd had before. A hand brushed soothingly over his shoulder. He was safe. He was tired and sleeping in the car again, just like he always did, … 'cept …'cept the car engine didn't sound the same, and his hands hurt, and the seat was way too soft.

And, Sam remembered.

He felt again the cold hands that had come out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around him. One hand over his mouth pulling his head tightly against a shoulder. The other hand had clamped around his waist and yanked him back against a hard body. Sam had tried to break free. Tried so hard. He'd seen Dean go down, lying on the path against the wall. He'd twisted, kicked, and fought frantically to get to Dean, but he _couldn't_ break free, couldn't even loosen the hands holding him.

Then a Vamp had stabbed Dean, and Dean had screamed and Sam had screamed under the hand that covered his mouth.

It had looked like a stab to the heart!

Dean lay on the ground, bleeding, his eyes glazing over. Sam fought viciously, strained and twisted with everything he had, and then a needle was plunging into his neck sending an icy numbness surging through his body. Oh God, he was gonna pass out. He fought, but each movement only sent the drug coursing through his body faster, making him weaker. He stared back at his brother even as the Vampire that held him dragged him into the car, and started putting handcuffs onto his hands. Sam struggled, forced his eyes to stay open. Gathered all of his remaining strength and tried to clamber out towards Dean. He was disorientated. Caught a glimpse of Dean on the sidewalk. He slammed a hand against the back window, trying to get to him. Raf pulled the arm back and cuffed it with the other one. The drugs were pulling so hard - like Raf was pulling him down hard to lie with his head in Raf's lap. Sam sank into oblivion, remembering Dean bleeding on the sidewalk.

Sam remembered.

His eyes snapped open and he dived for the door. Only remembering as his head slammed into the window that his hands had been cuffed behind him.

"Do you always wake up this way, Samuel?" asked Raf, mildly.

"Dean, … Where's Dean?" asked Sam, desperately.

"Still lying on the pavement, I should imagine."

Images of something stabbing into Dean's heart. "You … your Vamp stabbed him! Oh God, you killed my brother!"

Raf was silent, uncaring, gazing out the front window at the road.

Sam took it for a confirmation. His face twisted in agony. He flung himself forward head butting Raf, wanting to hurt the bastard so bad. Raf flung him effortlessly back onto the seat but Sam didn't stay still. He tugged uselessly at the cuffs on his wrists and used his legs to kick out at Raf as hard as he could. He was pleased when he heard the Vamp give a pained grunt. Sam twisted his arm around to pull at the door handle.

Raf wore an annoyed expression. "Samuel, the child locks are on. You can't get out. You will stop your struggles immediately...."

Sam kicked again and dove across the centre of the car toward the passenger seat. The driver cursed and cuffed at him.

Raf dragged him back. "You will behave yourself, Samuel or I will need to punish you."

Sam didn't listen, he was beyond caring. He twisted and turned hysterically, kicking and hitting with every move that he could make. There were tears blurring his vision, and his mind could only think one thing: Dean had been killed. Dean was dead. They'd killed Dean. His brother was gone. He had no-one. Dean was dead. They'd stabbed him in the heart. His brother was dead. They'd killed Dean. Oh God, they'd killed Dean, and it should have been him. He wished to God that it had been him, instead.

Sam thrashed wildly and struck out at the drivers seat. He'd kill them for what they'd done. He'd kill them all! And he didn't care if he died in the process, either. His hysteria grew, along with the tears and the agony of loss, and he let it all take him. He thrashed, struggled, kicked, fought, using everything he had. He screamed at Raf and kicked at the driver, at the windows, wherever he could kick or with what ever he had.

Raf swore softly, astounded to find that he had to struggle to hold the boy still.

The driver swore at him too, each time he struck the driver's seat or made it past the centre console, but Sam was buried in pain and was far beyond reason, beyond caring, far beyond anything.

Eventually, Raf managed to use his strength and speed to subdue the boy before he caused Steven to have an accident, locking one forearm against the boys chest to hold him in the corner and his other arm locked around his knees. It was an uncomfortable position, awkward. But Raf wouldn't release the boy until he could find a better way of keeping him under control.

Sam strained against the hold, filled with too much pain to acknowledge the fear he had of the Vamp. Sam focused completely on killing the bastard.

"We'll need to fuel up before too long," said the Vamp in the front seat.

"Raf nodded, pressing his head out of the way as Sam tried to head butt him again. "My hands are a little full at the moment. I'll stay in the car."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Nearly five hours later and Dean's eyes were finding it hard to focus. He pulled in for more gas, and grabbed a couple of bottles of water, a steaming cup of coffee and some food.

The dude at the cash register looked him over tilting his head to the side to regard him with a serious stare. "Kid, I sure hope your heading home, 'cause, man, you look like death warmed over to me."

Dean smiled blandly and paid his money. He poured half a bottle of ice water over his head before he got back into the car, and started munching on a chocolate coated energy bar. He'd been keeping his eyes peeled now for the last hour or more, sure that he'd made up the time he'd lost. He should be catching up soon – _if_ they had stuck to the main roads – _if_ they hadn't stopped off somewhere after all and _if_ they were actually heading to Rugby, or even into North Dakota. He'd know one way or another inside the next hour.

He scanned the road as he drove the Impala up main street. By now, he seriously wanted to pass out somewhere for a week or three. His head thumped painfully in counterpoint to his shoulder. But he wasn't resting until he had Sammy back again, safe and …

_Silver_. Dean's hands tightened on the steering wheel. The lethargy fell away from him like a wave pulling away.

He had them in his sights. It was hard to miss two silver Mercedes Benz's travelling together, even in the dark. The streets were relatively quiet at this hour. They were taking there sweet time, driving carefully to avoid police interest. Dean pulled closer and cruised along after them. They pulled in together at the last gas station heading out of town.

It was now or never.

Dean had to move fast. He wanted to get Sammy out before they had a chance to put gas in their cars. If they decided to give chase with cars running on empty, he'd have a better chance of getting Sammy clear of them. But he was up alone against these Vamps and they could move way faster than him. They also had everything they needed. Dean decided he needed to deal himself a hand, which meant he would need a bargaining chip.

It was about two thirty in the morning. Hardly anyone was out on the streets at this hour. He wasn't gonna be able to get in unnoticed, so he gave them just enough time to park and scatter, then he slammed into the gas station and leapt out with the crossbow and his machete. He snagged the Vamp going for the fuel pump, and held the machete to her throat and the crossbow at the ready in his other hand. Vaguely he noted the guy working the cash register grab for a phone. The one he held hissed at him and started twisting and turning. Dean pressed the machete against her neck until she gasped in pain. She was a smart one. She got the message real fast and stopped struggling.

"I want my brother back now or I'm gonna start decapitating!" yelled Dean.

Everything seemed to slow down for a few seconds then. Three Vamps got out of the cars. One guy from one car and another dark haired guy and a petite girl from the other. Dean recognized the one that had been giving the orders. Raf was the elder Vamp. He was even taller than Sammy. He was the one who'd tried messing with Sam. The one that Sam was terrified of. The one that had stolen Sammy from him, twice.

"Uh uh," he said as the two Vamps from the second car sidled closer.

The elder Vamp held up his hand and the others stopped moving.

"Dean Winchester," said Raf, he leaned casually against the car door he had just opened and ran his eyes over Dean with interest. "My, but you are persistent, aren't you. Despite your rather severe injuries, you still managed to track us down." He shook his head in admiration. "I _am_ rather impressed." His eyes drifted back to the back seat of the car he had just climbed out of.

"Dean!" Sammy stared at him with a face full of so much relief and pain that Dean nearly let the Vamp he had go so that he could go and comfort his brother. Sammy was kneeling on the floor of the car, he looked exhausted and desperate and terrified all at once. Dean could see his hands were handcuffed behind him and someone sitting in the front seat held Sammy's frantically struggling body still by the front of his hoodie.

"Your brother woke up about an hour ago," continued Raf. "He's been rather … fractious since then. I told him that I'd have to punish him if he went on, but he's really rather stubborn." Raf sighed, looking pointedly at Sammy's desperate and frantic struggles against the grip on him in the car. "I do need him, more or less in one piece, so I was at a loss for what to do about his behaviour. I was even thinking of having Nathanial sedate him again, which isn't really ideal, but perhaps there is another solution."

"Cut the chatter. I'll make this simple for you," said Dean. "I want my brother back now, or your girlfriend here is gonna find out first hand exactly how hard it can be to think without a head."

Raf stepped closer and considered Dean thoughtfully. "Dean, Dean, Dean. You're not deluded enough to think that you're actually in control of this situation now, are you?"

Dean pressed the machete up against the Vamps throat again until she gasped in pain. He took careful aim at Raf with the crossbow. "I don't know, I seem to have things well in hand, forgive the pun. But since you've stolen my brothers memories, you'll know that I can get kinda fractious myself when I get mad and believe me, I'm pretty damned mad right now. I want a straight trade, this Vamp for my brother, and you'd better move fast before the police get here and complicate things. I'm sure they'd be about as upset as I am, about you kidnapping my brother."

Raf eyed him thoughtfully and then turned to look back at Sammy again. "I know how fond your brother is of you. Perhaps he'd be more inclined to behave himself if we took you along with us."

"You're not listening to me! Maybe, if I just shoot you, you bastard ..."

Raf's eyes were suddenly cold and angry. "Go ahead, Dean, shoot me. I told you, you're not in control of the situation. But, go ahead and shoot me if you need convincing."

Dean frowned at him, suddenly not too sure that he _did_ have the situation under his control. Maybe he'd miscalculated. Maybe he should have taken more time to think this through – would have, if he'd _had_ the time. He hadn't considered that maybe 'elder Vampires' had other talents besides mind powers. He aimed right for Raf's heart and let loose a shot with another bolt coated in dead man's blood.

The bolt flew true to aim - but - Raf wasn't there.

A hand wrapped tightly around his forearm, nearly breaking the bones, and pulled it and the machete he held inexorably away from the girl Vamp's throat. "What the ..." Dean hadn't even _seen_ the Vampire move. He spun on his heel, attempting to kick back, but Raf had an iron grip on his forearm that limited any movement. The next move happened so fast that Dean didn't register it – but Raf shifted and dug fingers into the wound on his shoulder. Dean yelped in agony. He fought desperately, despite the pain, but the Vamp was the strongest, fastest thing he'd _ever_ come across. Dean recognized belatedly that he was way, _way_ out of his depth.

"Riya, dear are you alright?" asked Raf in concern – he didn't sound strained or even a little ruffled, despite Dean's struggles.

Riya was rubbing a hand at her throat and glared at Dean, furiously. "I'm fine thank you, Raf."

"Nathanial, you like classic cars," said Raf. "Why don't you and Riya follow along behind us in the Winchester's car. Mr Winchester here is right, we're probably going to have a police presence here before long. We'll go to another gas station for fuel."

Dean fought hard; _had_ been fighting all along with elbows, knees and feet using every skill and trick he had ever learned. But the Vamp seemed to be completely oblivious to the blows or the moves that he made to free himself.

Raf grew impatient with the struggling human and cuffed Dean hard on the side of the head. Dean sagged and Raf picked him up effortlessly and carried him to his car. "You can sit in the front seat beside Steven."

Dean was folded forcefully into the front seat. His hands were caught and dragged back, and he roused again as he heard a pair of handcuffs click into place around his wrists linked to a piece of chain that limited his movements.

"Dean, are you okay?" panted Sammy, a sheen of sweat coated his forehead and his hair stuck to his face in sweaty tendrils. His voice was an octave or two higher than normal, and Dean could hear the exhaustion and fear in it.

Dean twisted himself around as far as the cuffs and chain would allow. "I'm fine. Relatively. Sammy, I'm so sorry, I screwed up."

"S'okay, Dean," said Sammy, sounding vastly relieved. "I'm just glad that you're still alive."

Raf got into the seat behind Dean. "Drive Steven. Crystal says there's a police car about three or four minutes away."

Steven spared a glare for Dean and got the Mercedes back on the road fast.

Raf watched out of the rear view mirror as they drove along. "Good," he said. "The police have decided to stop at the gas station. Let's drive on for a while." He turned to smile coldly at Dean . "Now Dean. I'm sure that Samuel has told you that I've found a use for him. I'm going to keep him for a while. Now that I have you as well, Samuel's going to behave himself or I'm afraid that you'll be the one punished for his transgressions."

Sammy glared and lashed out at Raf with a vicious kick to his side. "You let us go, or I ..."

A fist slammed into Dean's face. Dean's head bounced against the side window, right on the lump that was already there. Dean slumped for a moment seeing stars, yet again. Damn it. He hadn't seen Raf move at all!

"No, leave him alone!" yelled Sammy leaning forward rigidly in the seat. He tried to reach out a hand to Dean. But Sam had forgotten about the cuffs that held his wrists behind him. "Dean! Dean?"

Dean shook his head dazedly. His jaw stung and throbbed in time with all of the other injuries he had. Man, were they having a bad week or what?.

"We have another two hours before we get to our destination and you _will_ behave yourself, Samuel or you're brother's bones will be broken one bone at a time."

Sam stilled, his whole body quivering with tension. He shot a fearful glance Dean's way.

Dean gave a little shake of his head. Right now, chained up in a speeding car full of Vamps, they were stuck. There would be time enough for fighting later, when the odds were better.

"Are you going to behave yourself now, Samuel?"

Sammy nodded slowly, he drew himself as far back from Raf as possible.

The next second, Sammy was lying along the backseat of the car with Raf stretched out on top of him.

"No!," yelled Dean. "Damn it, get your paws off of my brother, you creep!"

Raf ignored Dean completely and smiled down at Sam. "I promised you some punishment for misbehaving Samuel," said Raf brushing a hand gently over Sam's face until he caught his jaw. "And I always follow through on my promises."

Dean was yelling curses at the top of his voice. He fought against the cuffs binding him, but couldn't move more than a foot forwards. In the end he had to watch in horror as Raf bent his head and kissed Sammy on the mouth.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	9. Chapter 9

One moment Sam had been tucking himself into the corner as far from Raf as he could get and the next Raf had him laid out across the length of the back car seat and he was lying on top of him.

Dean was yelling from the front seat but Sam couldn't spare the time to listen. Sam's whole body went rigid for a moment, as he listened to Raf explain that he was about to be punished, and then Sam was struggling wildly. He tried to close his mouth, tried to twist his head away. He knew what was to come now and his mind was shrieking in pure terror.

Raf had obviously done this sort of thing before. His powerful fingers dug into Sam's cheeks just above the hinges of his jaw and Sam couldn't close his mouth, couldn't stop the elder Vamp's tongue from entering his mouth and exploring it intimately and sensuously. Couldn't stop the kiss from deepening and deepening …

… and deepening. Sam was screaming as ...

… his mind was invaded …

_Sam/Raf looked up into his brother's eyes. "Please Deaney. I want to know!"_

_Dean shook his head, looking upset. "But you're only six years old Sammy. Dad says ..."_

"_Dean, please?" Sam/Raf could feel the first tears escaping his eyes even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't cry 'cause Dean didn't like crying. "Cory said our mom isn't really dead. He says that's just what grown ups tell you when a mom's run away 'cause they don't love you no more and ..."_

_Dean's eyes widened in shock and the next moment his arms were wrapped around Sam/Raf in a hug so tight that Sam/Raf couldn't sob like his body wanted to._

"_No Sammy, no. Don't listen to that stupid kid. Mom loved us. She did. She loved us both so much. I know she did."_

_Sam/Raf felt the sob escape then. Screwed up his face and felt all the pain he'd jammed up inside of him bubble up in a rising tide of loss and fear, and pain. It was almost more than he could handle - 'cept Deaney was holding him, rocking him and stroking his back gently. It didn't hurt as bad when his big brother showed him how much he loved him._

"_I still remember it, Sammy. I remember, and it's all true." Deaney looked down at his face, looking so sad and full of pain. "Dad snatched you out of your cradle and he shoved you into my arms. And I could see, just for a second. I could see the fire all through your nursery, Sam, and mom … mom was burning up on the ceiling …"_

"_No, Dean," whispered Sam/Raf. His eyes huge with horror. He looked up into Dean's pain filled face and he knew his brother was telling him the truth._

_And he also knew that he had hurt Dean by making him remember it all. He felt pain and remorse then, not for the mother that he had never known, but for the brother that he'd hurt. Sam/Raf flung himself into his brothers arms and hugged and stroked his brother's back soothingly._

Get out, get out, get off me! Get OUT! Sam screamed inside his mind but the kiss went on and on, dragging him into another memory ...

_He was fifteen, and traveling on the bus heading for the shopping mall. There weren't enough seats around so he was hanging onto a strap. It was hard to do, with his backpack getting in the way all the time. But Sam/Raf hadn't wanted to wait for another less crowded bus. Tomorrow was Dean's birthday and he'd saved up enough money to buy his brother a present._

_The hairs on the back of Sam/Raf's neck rose, and with a frown, he scanned the bus. There was a guy – maybe twice his age, staring at him intently with a sly grin on his face. _

_Sam/Raf would normally not have noticed – half expected the guy to look away once Sam/Raf had caught him out, except that this guy just kept on looking. No, leering. That was the word. The guy was leering at him._

_Gross. Sam blushed and frowned and looked away uncomfortably. It made him feel dirty to be looked at like that. No-one had ever looked at him like that before._

Dean twisted and stretched a leg over the space between the two front seats. He tried to kick at the Vamp, but still he couldn't quite reach. "You bastard Vampire, let him go! Get off of him! Let my brother go!" he yelled again. His voice was starting to sound raw from all the yelling.

"Raf. Rafael?" called Steven glancing back over his shoulder with a frown. "Raf, you need to let the kid go. You're going to kill him. He can hardly breathe."

Dean pulled himself up and looked back at Sam anxiously. The Vamp was right. Raf was still lying on top of Sam's handcuffed body with a lot of weight pressed on Sam's chest. He'd had Sam in a lip lock for ages and although Sam was still struggling to break free, his struggles were a lot weaker than they had been.

Raf broke the kiss and leaned back, reluctantly. He smiled down at Sam in wonder, "My, oh _my, _that was _so_ good_._"

Sam, had barely enough energy to gasp in a desperately needed breath of air. He stared back at Raf unseeingly, lost in the wreckage of his memories.

Dean pulled forward as far as the cuffs would allow. "Sam? Sammy? Talk to me, tell me you're okay."

Sam pulled in another breath and tried to gather himself together but there was an avalanche of agony ripping through his head, overwhelming him. Sam moaned and passed out.

"No, Sam! Sammy?" Dean tugged at the cuffs and stared at his brother, feeling totally shocked. It was one thing to hear his brother say that a Vamp had kissed him and sifted through his memories. It was a whole other thing again to see it actually happen. He stared speechlessly at the Vamp as he effortlessly shifted the limp body around so that Sam lay across the seat with his head resting on the Vamps lap. Dean was beyond freaked out. This Vampire was the scariest damned thing he'd ever seen.

"Thank you Steven, for alerting me to the problem." Raf ran a hand possessively through Sam's hair. "His memories are so enticing that I almost got carried away, how long did I spend at it?"

Steven didn't turn around again, he glanced briefly into the rear vision mirror and concentrated instead on the road ahead of him. "I'd say about half an hour at the most. Why is the kid unconscious?"

Raf shrugged. "I'm not sure. He probably just fainted; perhaps the lack of air."

Dean tugged uselessly at the cuffs. "Unchain me," said Dean, anxiously. "I gotta check on my brother."

Raf only glanced at him and carded his fingers through Sam's hair.

"Look," said Dean. "I swear I'll behave, just … I need to check on Sam. You don't know what to do, or how to take care of him. I've been doing it since he was tiny ..." Dean was babbling, he knew it, but he looked at Raf and found himself feeling nauseous. Supernatural things didn't belong in the world, but a Vampire like him, pretty much took it all to a whole new level of wrongness.

"I'm perfectly capable of checking on Samuel by myself," said Raf.

"No, no you're _not_," said Dean, wrestling with the cuffs. "He's my brother and you've hurt him. Just ..."

"We need gas," interrupted Steven. "I'm going to pull in at that gas station up ahead."

"Fine, Steven," Raf said. "And Dean, Samuel here is as much a hostage for your good behavior as you are for his. You _will_ settle down, and remain silent. _Any_ bad behavior on your part, and I'll break his arm. Do you understand me?"

Dean tore his gaze from Sammy's still face to glare back at Raf. Raf had said it while caressing Sam's face, but he was absolutely cold when he spoke. Dean could tell that Raf meant every word. It was a struggle to reel in his temper. A real struggle not to yell more obscenities at the bastard. But he sensed that this Vamp would do as he threatened without hesitation, and Dean was in no position to protect Sammy. Dean glanced at Sam's pale face, took a deep breathe and swallowed the curses. "Yeah."

Raf examined Dean's face carefully and then nodded. "It is reassuring to see that you _do_ care for your brother after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Simply that Samuel was thinking of leaving your company," said Raf mildly. "If he was certain of your love for him, then I wonder why he worries that you will kill him as your father ordered?"

"I'm … . That's none of your friggin business," snapped Dean.

Raf regarded him coldly. He pulled Sam a little closer and stroked Sam's bangs away from his eyes.

"What's this damned ceremony about? What the hell do you need Sam for?" demanded Dean.

Raf ignored the question and stroked Sam's lips delicately. "You will remain silent now until we reach our destination. Remember your promise."

Steven climbed back into the car, turned on the engine and drove the car out into the night.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	10. Chapter 10

Dean's shoulder throbbed painfully – not helped by his hands being cuffed and chained behind him. His head pounded with exhaustion and a mega sized headache too, but Dean was way too tense to pay much attention. Raf had spent an hour stroking his brothers face, his lips, his hair, his throat, his chest. Raf was stroking Sam like he owned him. Dean watched and glared and clenched his teeth until they hurt.

Every now and then Raf would look at him with amusement. Daring him to complain. Daring him to say something and risk Raf breaking Sam's arm like he'd threatened to do.

It was probably only because the other Vamp, Steven was in the car that Raf didn't do more to Sam than he was doing. Steven was quiet, but he'd shoot glances through the rear view mirror. He'd glance over at Dean sometimes too and Dean could have sworn that sometimes, they were sympathetic glances.

Dean watched as Raf lifted a finger and traced Sam's jaw line. He felt a shudder ripple up his spine. If looks could kill, then Raf should be a steaming pile of vampish goop on the carpeted floor by now. Dean had glared at him until his face hurt. The glare only eased when he looked at Sam and then he'd been worried instead. Sam hadn't stirred even slightly through the journey, not even when Raf removed the cuffs binding him. His face was so still that Dean found himself checking at Sam's chest or throat to make sure he was still breathing.

He found himself tensing up each time the Vamp started stroking Sam. It reminded him of someone petting a dog – only this was more sensual – and way creepier. It was driving him _nuts_ trying not to tell Raf to keep his hands to himself. Driving him nuts with worry that Sam wasn't waking up. By the time they got to Rugby, Dean's jaw was aching from being locked up so tight over his protests.

Rugby was a tiny town with only two or three thousand people in it. Pretty much deserted at the hour that they drove through it. Finally they pulled up outside a high metal electric security gate about ten miles out of town and waited for the automatic gate to open. Dean noticed the row of spear like spikes on top of the two meter tall fencing.

The house took another five minutes to drive up to on a private tree lined road. But Dean wouldn't have called it a house. The place was massive – like something from the deep south in that old Gone With The something or other movie. Although it was still dark, Dean could see that the house was white, three stories tall and had enormous pillars under the roof with a wrap around verandah. Massive oak trees stood all around the house, shading it from the last of the nights moonlight.

Steven stopped the car outside the front door, and the other Mercedes and the Impala pulled up behind. Another Vampire opened the front door of the house and came out, brushing a hand through his spiky brown hair, and sticking both hands in his jeans pockets.

It made Dean wince, to see the Vamp, Nathanial getting out from behind the drivers wheel of his precious Impala. But that was nothing compared to the sight of Raf climbing out of the car cradling Sam's limp body in his arms like a child.

"Hey Raf, guys. I thought you were never going to get here." said the Vamp on the stairs, rocking to and fro on his feet.

"Benjamin," said Raf with a smile.

"I've unpacked and got everything set up. I've also restocked the pantry and the fridge for your guest." Benjamin's eyes fell on Dean. "Ahh, guests," he modified.

"Well done, Benjamin," said Raf. He carried Sam effortlessly into the house, followed by Nathanial who grabbed a medical kit from a cupboard near the front door. Steven left the handcuffs on Dean and led him in behind the other two Vamps.

There was a chandelier in the foyer, lighting up a tastefully, but simply decorated area with a broad, carpeted winding staircase leading up to the next floor. Raf carried Sam up the stairs. Dean watched Sam's head and an arm swing limply with each step. Raf traveled down a hallway and paused. Nathanial opened a door and stepped aside to let Raf go into the bedroom first.

Steven led Dean into the room. There was a bed and a beautiful cherry wood chest of drawers that looked to be at least a few hundred years old. There was a door leading into an enormous ensuite and two french doors led out onto a balcony with plants and some chairs on it. All together, Dean thought it looked like one of the better motel rooms that they'd come across. Steven opened one side of the handcuff on Dean's wrist and refastened it to a steel hook fixed into a thick exposed beam in the wall on one side of the room. "I'll find a length of chain so that you can move around. and we're gonna need another bed in here." he murmured, walking out.

Raf, I should examine the boy," said Nathanial hesitantly, shuffling from one foot to the other, waiting for permission.

Raf lay Sam down on the massive king sized bed, and with a frown at Sam's still form he nodded his agreement to the examination. "Nathanial, remember they're hunters. Don't let yourself get attached."

Dean frowned at that, wondering what Raf meant.

Nathanial tucked some of his longish blonde hair behind his ear. He set a small doctors bag down on the bed and started examining Sam carefully. He took a temperature reading first. "How long has he been like this?"

"About two hours," said Raf, "I think it may be the result of my blending with him."

Nathanial glanced up at Raf nervously, and pulled back Sam's eyelids to shine a small torch light into his eyes. "Equal and reactive," he murmured, "but his temperature is up a bit. None of the other people that you blended with had this sort of reaction, did they?"

Raf shrugged. "I generally didn't stay around once I'd finished blending."

Nathanial felt Sam's skull carefully and titled his head to the side to concentrate on hearing Sam's heartbeat. "It's possible that he's still reacting to the concussion injury he got when you first caught him. I don't see anything else wrong with him physically, although when he wakes up, I'll want to ask him some questions. I'll monitor him through the day, if you want."

Raf shook his head. "There's no need for you to lose sleep, Nathanial leave him to me, you can talk to our guests tomorrow. In the mean time, please check their car over, you know what to look for. Then park it in the garage."

Raf waited until Nathanial had left the room. He picked up a length of chain that was attached to something that Dean couldn't see. Raf removed Sam's shoes and socks and attached the other end of the chain to Sam's ankle with a manacle. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and started stroking Sam's hair again.

"Will you quit touching him," said Dean. "He's not a damned pet."

Raf lifted an eyebrow at him in amusement. "It might have escaped your notice, Dean but you are mine to do with as I please."

Dean cursed him. "Why don't you go feel up your mate then. Sam needs …"

"I will … 'feel up' whom so ever I please. You will remember your status here."

Dean tugged at the cuffs again in anger.

"You and your brother will be remaining with us for some time, and if you both behave you might survive relatively intact. You will both remain chained in this room until I no longer have need of your brother."

Dean shot Raf another glare. "You still haven't explained exactly what you want with my brother or what this ceremony's all about."

Raf ignored Dean's interruption pointedly, and went on as if Dean hadn't spoken. "Your health and comfort will depend on each others' good behavior. Your chain will be long enough to allow you to use the bathroom, the beds and the balcony. My kin and I will come and go as we please. I warn you now, Dean" said Raf with an icy stare. "You will not harm any of my family in any way, or the consequences to you and your brother will be most severe." Raf picked up a wooden bowl on the bedside table and carried it over to Dean. "Turn out all of your pockets. I want your cell phone and any and all other items and mind, I will be checking."

Raf watched as Dean started emptying his pockets. He picked up the cell phone and crushed it in his fist leaving only a pile of small broken bits behind in the bowl. "Your belt too," said Raf .

Dean sighed and pulled the belt out of his jeans and dropped it into the bowl too. Then Raf stepped over and patted Dean down carefully. Dean tried not to cringe away as the Vamp stepped into his personal space and ran his hands over him. His survival instincts were screaming for him to run for his life. From this distance, even he could tell that this Vamp was a type of predator that shouldn't exist at all. Raf was so freaky, so out of place, it was like being touched by something completely foreign, completely alien.

Raf looked him over carefully, and smiled at him. "You look tired Dean. You should try to sleep more," he said ignoring Dean's glare, he patted Dean on his cheek and took the bowl back over to the bed. Raf sat beside Sam and started going through his pockets. Sam's phone got destroyed the same way that Dean's had. Raf removed some loose coins and then rolled Sam's limp body over to take his wallet and a small notebook from his back jean pockets, dropping everything into the bowl.

Raf rolled the body back over and Sam flopped limply back onto the bed with a barely heard moan. His shirt and hoodie had ridden up during the search and Raf paused for a moment, looking at Sam with desire. He slowly ran his hands over Sam's exposed stomach and lower ribs, pushing the shirt up higher.

"Leave him alone!" spat Dean, suddenly terrified of what Raf might do.

Raf glared, losing his temper. "You require another lesson, Dean," He twisted and placed his lips over Sam's unconscious ones, running his hands over Sam intimately.

"No, don't! Leave him alone, you blood sucking bastard!" yelled Dean yanking hard at the hook on the wall. He twisted and put both feet on the wall near the hook and leaned back, pulling with all of his strength. The bolt didn't move at all. "Get your filthy hands off of my brother!" yelled Dean.

Sam chose that moment to wake up.


	11. Chapter 11

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam went from unconscious to full blown panic, the second he opened his eyes. There was a body over him, a cold hand caressing his body, lips crushing his …. Raf! No!

Training and instinct kicked in a split second later and Sam attacked with bare feet, elbowed the Vamp in the ribs and hit him hard on the side of the head with the other fist. Raf was surprised more than hurt, and rolled partly off him.

Sam scrambled backwards in his panic, fell off the side of the bed, and tried to find his feet only to be tripped by something tangling around his feet. He made for Dean without wasting any more time trying to get up until he got to his brothers side. He snatched at him and pulled, yanking him towards the door. Tried frantically to get him _moving_ before the Vamp got his act together and … and … . It took a moment before it registered that one of Dean's hands was handcuffed to a thick closed hook imbedded in the wall.

That's when it all came crashing down on him, in one huge avalanche of despair. He remembered Raf, the telepathic crap, the creepy touchy-feely hands, the Vamp stabbing Dean, the incredible pain of Raf in his head, in his – _no_, _don't go there!_

Then he saw the chain that had tripped him and focused properly on the handcuffs holding Dean. His whole body slumped. "Oh,God no," he managed, recognizing that they were both well and truly screwed, he sank to the floor bonelessly.

Dean crouched protectively over his brother, wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a hug, dragging him back further away from the Vamp, back around even further until Dean's body was in front of his.

Raf got off the bed and took two panther-like stalking strides towards them with fury in his eyes.

"Ben, angle around to the left a bit more," said Steven's voice from out in the hallway.

Raf's head titled, distracted by the voices. He glared at the Winchester's and strode swiftly out of the room.

Next thing, Benjamin and Steven appeared carrying a bed between them.

"Over here by the wall is the best spot I guess," said Benjamin. He twisted, holding his end of the bed one handed and frowned at the room, scratching at his thick brown hair, thoughtfully. "If he's got to wear a chain the whole time though, how about we shift the drawers over?"

Steven was looking at Sam and Dean sitting together on the floor. His eyes narrowed in contemplation. "By the wall will do for today," he said absently, and together they put the bed down. Steven picked up a long length of light chain and a manacle from on top of the bed.

Benjamin shook out some sheets and a down filled doona, and swiftly started making up the bed.

Steven, moving slowly and cautiously, approached the Winchesters huddled together on the floor.

Dean could feel Sam tensing up behind him, and put a hand out to calm him down. He watched as Steven fastened the manacle around his ankle and fed the other end through the hook on the wall. Then he removed the cuff from his wrist frowning at the livid bruising and cuts on it. "I'll let Nathanial know that you'll need some medical attention as soon as he wakes up this evening." His eyes shifted to Sam. "He gonna be alright?"

Sam blinked at the Vamp in surprise. He didn't answer; barely dared to breathe. He stared warily back at the Vamp watching, with a tense body, for any sudden moves.

Dean shifted a little, putting himself between Sam and the Vamp's again. "Sam's my responsibility, I'll take care of him," he said firmly.

Steven straightened and backed away to stand with Benjamin. "Someone will bring you some breakfast just after sunset. Get some sleep," he said and followed Benjamin out, leaving the bedroom door open behind them.

Sam started shaking then, hard. Dean pulled his brother in for a hug. Waited patiently for the tremors to die down a little, and then twisted around until he could look Sammy squarely in the face again.

"Last thing I remember, … I really, _ really_ ... don't want to remember," said Sam with a desperate sound to his voice.

"You passed out again, right after he - finished. Stayed out cold for a good three hours, Sam what happened? Did you … are you okay?"

Sam shook his head looking more than a little scared. "It hurt, Dean. It hurt real bad, and my head feels, I don't know … weird, sort of - tight."

Dean bit his lip thinking about it, wishing he could take Sam to a hospital or a doctor or - just out of this Vamp hell hole altogether.

Sam huffed out a breath of air. "Dean," he said with sudden concern. "Your shoulder."

Dean pulled himself back up to his feet. "It's okay. Had this talkative ex nurse stitch me up."

Sam frowned, and climbed to his feet. He was about to say something when he listed sideways heavily. "Whoa."

"Sammy?" Dean caught his brother and steadied him, his forehead creased in a worried frown.

"Room titled on me." Sam frowned, trying to find his balance. "Dean you're pale, they didn't bite you did they?"

"Blood loss from the bolt in my shoulder," he said. A part of him recognized that Sam was trying to distract him, but he was so tired he could barely think clearly, let alone try to process what was going on. "Maybe they've all just eaten, or maybe Raf has given orders or something, 'cause none of 'em have tried to take a bite yet. Not even a nibble. Weirdest nest of Vamp's we've ever come across - after Lenore's lot."

"We've got to get _out_ of here," said Sam, looking at the French doors and the bedroom door with almost wild eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock," said Dean. "A little update for ya. We're on a fair sized piece of private property out in the middle of nowhere, and they've got the Impala stashed away somewhere. We need to get out of these manacles and find the car. I can hot wire her if I need to." Dean looked around, and then examined the manacle on his ankle. "These locks are pretty damned good ones, and until we solve _that_ problem, we aren't going anywhere. We can go through the drawers, check for curtain prongs or springs, any kind of thin wire will do. First things first, I need the bathroom."

Sam's eyes widened. "Yeah, ah, me too."

Dean couldn't help sharing a grin with his brother.

They helped each other over to the bathroom door, tripping a little over the stupid chains. Dean did his stuff first, taking an extra minute to wash his too hot face, and take a long drink of water. He pulled open each drawer and the mirror cabinet looking for anything useful but only found washers, soaps and a couple of plastic combs, some shampoo, a battery operated shaver, toothpaste and four packaged toothbrushes. Everything else had been cleared out.

Sam got a drink of water and used the bathroom as quickly as he could. He found himself checking the room over anxiously for Dean or Vamps as he stumbled unsteadily out. Sam winced seeing the large blood stain on the shirt his brother still wore as Dean turned and started checking the chest of drawers.

Dean closed the last of the drawers with a tired sigh. "They're all empty. Mattress is latex on a wooden base and the curtains don't have hooks. I get the feeling we're not the first set of 'house guests', these Vamps have had here. We'll have … " There was a sound out in the hall that had Dean moving quickly to place himself closer to his brother.

Benjamin came in and put a comfy looking padded chair down by the door. He was carrying a gun. "You two not asleep yet?" He moved over to the window and pulled the drapes closed, darkening the room almost completely. "Raf thinks you need someone keeping an eye on you twenty four seven – you being hunters and all, and kinda resourceful. So, I'm taking first shift. You better get used to sleeping the daylight hours, 'cause you'll be keeping our schedules, not yours."

Dean stared at him incredulously. "You think we're gonna sleep with a _Vampire_ watching over us?"

Benjamin shrugged. "You'll have to sleep sometime, and by the look of you, you definitely both need it. If you don't behave and do as you're told, I have orders to shoot you with tranquilizer darts." Benjamin waved the gun at them, and grinned. "Oh, and don't worry, none of us are likely to bite either of you unless you cause trouble. We don't drink human blood, we have cattle and horses on the property for our nutritional requirements."

Dean glanced back at Sam. He could see his brother swaying on his feet, and he wasn't feeling all that steady himself about now. Since there wasn't really any choice, he led Sam over to the large bed. But Sam locked his legs at the last few steps. Dean looked back to see his brother shuddering as he stared at the bed. "Don't worry Sammy. I'm not letting anything get you; I'll be sleeping right next to you."

"Oh, by the way, if you're thinking of trying to take any one of us down, you'll have a hard time of it. Raf made sure we all had the best martial arts and self defense training available." Benjamin's eyes narrowed as he looked at Dean. "You're damned lucky Riya decided to play it cool at the gas station. She might have gotten a few nasty cuts but she could have kicked your ass half way down to Sydney. If you _do_ decide to be difficult, Raf is gonna punish one of you, and believe me that's _not_ gonna be fun. Plus the others are just down the hall – they'll hear if you create a ruckus."

Dean helped Sam onto the bed, but in the end, Sam thought it was him that helped Dean. He'd never seen Dean looking so tired.

Dean propped a pillow on the headboard and leaned back watching the Vampire seated by the door, and Sam could tell that his brother fully intended to stay awake. Sam shifted a pillow around behind his back too. He wasn't planning on sleeping. Not with Raf and a nest of Vamps around. Someone had to keep watch, and Dean was clearly at the end of his rope. He wondered if the two of them would get out of this in one piece; wondered about everything _except_ the telepathic crap that Raf had used on him. Sam decided he wasn't up to thinking about that one yet. He had to make sure Dean was okay first. Yeah, and right now, he could do without the melt down he was sure he was gonna have if he _did_ think about things too much. He patted Dean's shoulder, leaned in and whispered. "I'll take first watch."

Dean frowned at him and shook his head. "I'm okay for the next three hours or so, you need sleep."

Sam frowned back at his brother, "No, really Dean. I'm good."

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "Then I guess we'll both be keeping watch."

Sam sighed and leaned back against the headboard. He'd give Dean ten minutes. Then if he wasn't out, he'd try talking sense to him again.

Benjamin regarded them both with raised eyebrows for a few minutes. Then he sighed, raised the tranquillizer gun and shot them both.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	12. Chapter 12

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

There were soft sheets underneath him. Sam frowned in his sleep, something was wrong about soft sheets … something awful … something scary. He stirred restlessly, puzzling over the problem as his exhausted body tried to draw him back into the depths of sleep. But … there was a weight across one of his thighs, and what felt like a head resting against his back. That was wrong. There shouldn't be ... Raf!

Sam's was off the bed before his eyes were open, breath puffing through him like a freight train as his heartbeat struggled to catch up.

Benjamin was gone and Nathanial now sat in the chair. He looked up from the book he was reading, startled by Sam's sudden movement.

Dean had woken up at the sudden jolting. His pillow had vanished. He peered through sleepy eyes looking for the culprit. "What the hell, Sammy?" he asked, and then could have bitten his tongue at the look on Sam's pale face. He knew who's fault that look was … Raf was _so_ gonna pay for ... . Dean rolled and sat up quickly, suddenly getting with the program. They weren't in any motel, they'd been caught by a nest of Vamps, and damn it, they'd been shot full of drugs!

Sam had paled even more standing beside the bed. He was on the edge of hyperventilating and Dean could see him downloading the events of the last couple of days with a growing look of horror on his face. Then Sam swayed on his feet. Dean was by his side in seconds, despite the chain nearly tripping him up again. "What the hell, Sammy?" he said again, holding onto his brother's arms.

"Room won't stop moving," said Sam, in a strained voice. "I think … I'm going to throw up."

Dean glanced around, ignoring the Vamp in the chair and helped Sam towards the bathroom. Sam staggered like a drunk with no sense of balance. Dean slammed the bathroom door open not caring if it left a hole in the plaster. He grimaced as Sam collapsed by the toilet and started heaving. There wasn't much to come up, but Sam dry heaved for a few more minutes before climbing slowly back to his feet.

"You okay?" asked Dean in the relative privacy of the bathroom.

Sam flushed the toilet. "I …" Sam's face crumpled into such a look of desperation and fear that Dean took a few steps forward ready to comfort his brother without even realizing that he'd moved. Sam spoke rapidly, almost making the words tumble over each other in his haste. "Dean, what if Raf went through my memories while we were out on the bed? What if what's in my head has been _changed_ and I don't know about it? What if I try to remember something and I can't _tell_ between what's real and what's not? What if he tried it on _you_? What if he … " Sam gasped and spun back around and dry heaved over the toilet again.

Dean found a plastic mug by the sink and filled it with water. What if Sam was right and Raf had messed with him again? What could he say to Sam? How could he make it better? Jeez - there was _no way_ he could fix this sort of problem ….

"Raf has not been here." Nathanial said firmly. He stood by the bathroom door looking at Sam with huge blue eyes. "I swear to you, Raf hasn't been near you all night. He took a car and left just after Benjamin sedated you and he hasn't come back yet."

Dean wanted to swear at the Vamp. Wanted to tell the Vamp to get the hell out and leave them alone. But the Vamp spoke with earnest sincerity written all over him. You couldn't help but believe what he said. And suddenly, Sam was looking so relieved. Dean almost said 'thanks' to the Vamp. He moved over to Sam and pressed the cup into his hands. "Here."

Sam took the cup absently and rinsed out his mouth. He bent and spat into the sink, and then dropped the cup to make a frantic grab for the vanity.

Dean caught him before he fell, wrapped an arm around his waist and started steering him toward the bedroom again.

Nathanial backed out of the doorway peering at Sam in open concern. "I … . Do you mind if I take your temperature and give you a check up? I'm a fully qualified Doctor you see, and … ." He caught Sam's arm and steadied him as Sam listed sideways badly. "This kind of vertigo problem is really not good."

Dean pulled Sam away from the Vamp, got Sam onto the bed and looked down at his brother's too pale face. Nathanial stood back a few paces, shuffling from foot to foot. He looked anxiously from brother to brother, and Dean realized that he was waiting for _permission_ to give Sam a check up. "A qualified Doctor, huh?" said Dean, debating in his head about whether or not he could actually let a Vamp touch his brother.

"I got turned about seven months after I got my qualifications, but I've been keeping up on all the latest stuff. I get all the latest medical books and journals you see, and I practically memorize then, and I'm really good at … sorry, I'm rambling. I do that a lot." He waited.

Dean looked down at Sam. He wasn't gonna make this sort of decision on his brother's behalf - not after what he'd been through. But Sam was looking awful. _Really_ awful.

Sam looked up at Dean with his eyebrows raised questioningly.

Dean gave him a little half nod saying he thought Sam should say 'yes'. He could see the struggle Sam went through though, just thinking about having another Vamp lay hands on him. But there was also a little fear in his eyes, like Sammy knew things were going down hill and he'd need help. That kicked up Dean's worry meter by a long stretch.

"Okay," said Sam.

Nathanial nodded. "Umm … I'll just get my medical bag."

Dean sat on the side of the bed.

Sam was already tensing up. "Dean, don't leave okay?"

Dean grinned. "Not going anywhere, 'sides this chain won't let me."

Nathanial came back in, looking all businessy. "First thing I think is temperature and blood pressure. Then I want to check your ears and skull. I'll tell you all my findings as we go, okay?"

Sam bit his lip hard, watching Nathanial pulling things out of his bag. "Dean?"

Nathanial froze. "Sam. I don't want to hurt you. I won't do more than check your temperature if that's all you can stand. I can tell you're severely traumatized, and I'm sorry, I really am. But honestly? I can hear your blood flow from here and it's not quite right. I don't need to take a blood pressure to know it's high, but there is something _else_ not quite right – around your head area, I think. Will you let me give you a check up?"

Dean's blood pressure had gone up a few notches at what Nathanial was saying, and he looked back at Sam with worried eyes. He'd asked Sam back at the motel after Raf had first kidnapped him if Sam thought he might have been brain damaged by what Raf had done. Now that little piece of speculative concern was looking more like reality and was scaring him half to death.

Sam let out a big puff of breath. "Fine, get it over with then."

Nathanial smiled, "Okay, temperature first. He turned to Dean and held out a thermometer. "Do you know how to use an ear thermometer, Dean?"

Dean didn't even bother answering that question. He took the offered thermometer and turned it on. He was relieved that this particular Vamp seemed to be more human than most others. Kind of like Lenore was more human. Nathanial was gonna keep his hands to himself as much as possible to help Sammy deal, and Dean was more than a little thankful. He could see compassion in Nathanial that he rarely saw, even in a lot of real people.

Dean did the temperature reading. "Damn it. It's 102.2," he read aloud, peering down at his brother worriedly.

Nathanial nodded. "Might be up a bit due to the vomiting just now. You can keep the thermometer and check him every half hour. We'll start getting lots of fluids into him." Nathanial took out a notebook and wrote down the reading and the time. "Take off your shirt Sam. Dean, do you know how to put an inflatable blood pressure strap on?"

Dean nodded, and took Sam's blood pressure.

"Okay, your blood pressure is quite high Sam, like I suspected, though given the circumstances, I guess it's kind of to be expected. Um, Dean I'll give you some antiseptic and some bandages for those cuff cuts on Sam's wrists. I'd recommend a bath before you deal with them though," Nathanial spoke softly and gently. "The next bit means I'll have to touch you, Sam. Are you alright with that?"

Sam nodded. Although he was still not too sure that he'd be able to handle it. Nathanial sat beside him on the bed and Sam was up and off the bed like a shot.

Nathanial stood up and backed away.

Sam held up his hand and waited for the dizziness to subside a little. "Sorry, I'm okay. Just … Can we do this somewhere else?"

Nathanial nodded, "Sure, how about the chair by the door?"

Riya stuck her head around the door, running a hairbrush through her untidy hair. "Sorry, Nathanial I slept in. Is everything alright?"

Nathanial nodded. "Fine. Sam's not feeling too good, so I'm giving him a check up."

Riya grinned. "Knew you wouldn't take long before you had that medical bag out," she looked Dean and Sam over critically. "You might want to give that other one a check up too when you're done. He doesn't look all that well either."

Dean's eyebrow rose at the impersonal way she talked about him – like he wasn't even there. But then he remembered that only a day or so ago he'd threatened to decapitate her, so she was probably entitled to be a little on the bad tempered side.

Sam stumbled and fell into the chair clumsily. He looked up into his brother's face with concern. "The shoulder wound?" he murmured, and bit his lip worriedly.

Dean sighed. He'd been hoping to keep his own lousy condition under wraps. But now … He was guessing that Sam would demand to have Nathanial examine him as well. He'd been so worried over Sammy that he hadn't been paying much attention to his own condition – which wasn't too damned hot at the moment. If they hadn't been neck deep in trouble he'd be wanting a nice long nap – like maybe two or three day's worth. Yeah, that might help with the headache and the hot pain in his shoulder.

Riya tucked her hairbrush into a pocket and started winding her hair into a knot. "I'm going to help Diane with breakfast then. I'll bring up three trays if you want to eat in here."

Nathanial looked at Dean and Sam – like he was asking permission again.

Dean sighed not really feeling up to a display of his own bad temper. "That's okay with me I guess. Sammy?"

Sam nodded, and rubbed at his forehead.

Riya disappeared, humming as she went.

Nathanial watched Sam rub his forehead. He bent down on one knee by the chair. "How long have you had the headache?"

Sam grimaced. "Since Raf first did that mind thing on me."

Nathanial's forehead creased. "On a scale of one to ten how would you rate a broken wrist?"

Sam guffawed. "That's easy, been asked that three times already when I actually broke one of 'em. It's a five – maybe six."

Nathanial nodded and shone a pen light into Sam's eyes. "And how would you rate this headache?"

Sam was quiet for a moment, and couldn't quite stop the quiver that crept into his voice. "Right after he … you know. It's like a twelve or thirteen. I mean, I keep passing out it's so bad. But it's been around a seven or so since then. A lot worse than a migraine."

Nathanial glanced over at Dean.

Dean shook his head, showing how worried he was. "Sam doesn't exaggerate. If he says a seven – think more like a ten."

Nathanial nodded. "Sam, I'm gonna touch your head now, okay?"

Sam nodded, but his breath hitched up as he felt hands running through his hair reminding him of Raf's hands.

Nathanial could feel Sam's body stiffen, and spoke softly and gently. "Sam, I can feel your recent head injury. The swelling has gone down considerably. You're familiar with concussion injuries. Would you class it as a level one, two or three? I''m nearly done by the way."

Sam shuddered under the hands. "One."

"Have you had a recent ear infection? Maybe flu or a bad head cold, anything like that?"

"No, his last ear infection was when he was five," said Dean. "He hasn't had a cold or anything since last winter."

Nathanial backed away, frowning worriedly. "I'm done thank you, Sam."

Sam slumped in relief. "So, what's the verdict, Doc?"

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS


	13. Chapter 13

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Nathanial smiled delightedly, like a kid. "What's the verdict, 'Doc'," he repeated after Sam. "You know, you have no idea how much I love the sound of that 'Doc' tag." His smile faded a little. "Sam, I can't say for sure without some major hospital equipment scanning your head. But I'd say from what Raf has told me about the unusual intensity of blending with you, and the fact that none of his other blendings had people passing out on him, that your condition is a direct result of the blending itself."

Dean nodded his head impatiently. "We figured as much already. So, has he got brain damage or not?"

Nathanial ducked his head, unhappily. "If there is any it's only minor at this stage, and most likely completely reversible. Sam, has signs of inflammation completely unrelated to his recent head injury, which is causing some of his equilibrium problems. I'd like to take him to a hospital and perform an MRI… but … that's not going to happen." Nathanial eyed Sam critically. "You need rest, and I'm hoping you'll recover fully all on your own. I'm going to keep an eye on your symptoms, especially your temperature, and I'm going to listen to that blood flow problem regularly too. I'm also going to give you some strong pain medication and something for the vertigo, as well as some anti inflammatory tabs." He rummaged around in his medical bag and pulled out a box of pain tablets which he showed to Sam before popping out two tablets and giving them to Sam to swallow. "You'll take the vertigo tablets with your meal and I'll give you the other meds after you've eaten and kept your meal down for an hour or so. The pain medication will probably make you sleepy, which ..."

"No!" said Sam, eyes widening in alarm. He was in so much pain that he'd already dry swallowed them without thinking of the consequences.

Nathanial held up his hands. "Raf isn't here, remember? The pain meds should help you to get a deep sleep, but it won't mean that someone can't wake you up if necessary. I'm also gonna ask Raf to keep his hands off you for at least the next four or five days. Either his … talent …. has strengthened over the decades since he last used it, or there is something about _you_ that intensifies both the blending and the after effects." Nathanial regarded Sam for a long moment as he considered the problem. "One way or another, if Raf wants to keep you healthy for a while he'll need to keep his distance."

"Be a lot simpler if you just let us out of these," said Dean quietly, rattling the chain.

Nathanial ducked his head looking down at his feet. "I don't have keys. Raf says I can't be trusted with humans in the house. I … I don't like this sort of thing."

Sam and Dean shared a look. "Yeah," said Sam eventually. "Nathanial, you were gonna check on Dean's shoulder."

Nathanial's head shot up. He looked hopefully at Dean. "Can I?"

Dean almost laughed. "If Sam was feeling better he'd tell you that it's 'may I', not 'can I', Nate. And the answer's, yup – or Sam will never let me hear the end of it." Sam was in fact, already tugging at Dean's shirt.

Nathanial smiled shyly. "It's Nathanial, by the way. Not 'Nate.'"

Dean couldn't help smiling then. Behind him, Sammy let out a long suffering sigh.

"Okay, your turn to take off your shirt, Dean."

Dean's grin faded at the thought of trying to get his arm out of his shirts, but his shoulder did feel kind of painful. Actually it hurt like hell. Sam pulled steadily on his sleeve while Dean carefully pulled his arm out. His t'shirt already had a gaping hole in it thanks to the bolt and old Mrs C from the motel, so Dean let Sam cut the rest of it off rather than try to work his way out of it. Dean couldn't help sighing sadly as the last of it was pulled away. Some how, it was always his favorite t'shirts getting ruined by demons, witches, or Vamps. His oldest, least favorite t'shirt had lasted five years now without losing so much as a thread.

Nathanial took Dean's temperature first. "You're running a low grade fever, Dean," he said thoughtfully writing in his notebook. "And you could have used a blood transfusion after …"

"After your buddy, Steven stabbed me," supplied Dean flatly.

Nathanial glared. "You stabbed Steven too, remember? I'm the one that had to pull the bolt out of him." Nathanial turned the glare to the bandage on Dean's shoulder and muttered under his breath as he worked the gauze away from Dean's shoulder.. "Man, I hate all the violent crap that goes on. Why can't everyone just get along." His frown deepened as he pulled more gauze away. "This should have been changed ages ago. I wouldn't be surprised … ," he grimaced as he pulled the last of the gauze free. "Yup, an infection. I'll have to clean that out and put you on a course of antibiotics. Come along."

Dean and Sam followed the Vampire back into the bathroom and watched Nathanial get out some antiseptic and some swabs. Dean spent the next five minutes swearing then, with Nathanial saying 'sorry' every time he paused for breath. By the end of it, Dean was sweating and felt a little more weak kneed than he would have liked to admit.

Sam was looking even paler than before. But he was leaning against the door, watching every move that Nathanial made carefully.

Nathanial was not impressed with Dean's lack of self care. "I'll come by personally to change that dressing twice each night. My best advice is to drink a lot of fluids. You're going to need to eat well and rest a lot. No heavy lifting with that arm. I'll see if I can find a sling for the next few days. The less strain you put on it the better."

Which reminded Dean of exactly what sort of situation they were in. He was almost relaxing under Nathanial's mild mannered care. Hotel type accommodations and friendly bad guys weren't anything like what they usually got in these situations. "You haven't got any idea how long your friend Raf plans on keeping us here, do you Nate?

"It's 'Nathanial,' and the answer is no, Raf hasn't had a chance to tell us much yet." He turned away and quickly packed away his medical things.

Dean watched him through narrowed eyes. He could see that there was something that Nate knew that he wasn't spilling. Sure he was friendly, more human than most other Vamp's, but clearly loyal to Raf and his 'family'. Still if Raf had problems with Nathanial's tendency to get 'attached', then Dean was gonna keep on the Vamps good side, maybe try to get him to help them out.

Riya stepped back into the room wheeling a food trolley laden with covered trays. "Breakfast!" She announced brightly. "I've also brought some clothing and some towels."

Sam turned in the bathroom doorway and backed away a few steps as she drove the trolley over the chain attached to his foot.

"I used to have my meals out on the balcony when I was first turned, " she said idly.

"This was your room?" asked Sam.

Riya pulled open the drapes and opened the french doors to the balcony. "Yeah, I even wore a chain for a few weeks, until I'd stopped --- you know, freaking out about being turned."

Nathanial helped Dean out of the bathroom and over to the bed. "Let's give them breakfast in bed Ri' he said. "They both have fevers and I don't think either of them are up to breakfasting in the night air just yet.

Riya suddenly looked stricken. "Damn, I forgot ..."

Nathanial's head shot up at her stricken tone. He moved over to her and put a hand on her shoulder "Ri? What'd you forget?"

Riya shook her head, she glanced uncomfortably at Sam and Dean, embarrassed to have to talk in front of strangers. "About how feeling cold feels like – about how people still need time to recover from injuries." She bit her lip. "I'm getting more like a Vampire each day." She shot Dean and Sam an anguished glance.

Nathanial closed the french doors again. "Write it up in your journal, Ri. Best thing you can do." He patted her shoulder as he came back to the bed. "What's on the menu?"

"Oh". Riya determinedly shrugged her grim thoughts away and picked up the covers on one of the trays. "There's bacon and eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and onions." She lifted a second cover on the tray. "Then there's buttered toast, OJ and fresh brewed coffee, plus a bowl of stewed fruit and fresh cream.

Dean's stomach rumbled loudly.

Riya looked up, barely holding back her amusement. She handed the tray right over to Dean.

"I'm not hungry," said Sam.

Nathanial shook his head. "No, that's not an option. You need to eat, Sam. Your body needs the liquids and the nutrients if it's gonna fix anything. I'll get some bottled water for you and the rest of those tablets I mentioned," he headed towards the bedroom door. "Oh, and no coffee for you, Sam."

"I said I don't want anything to eat, " said Sam stubbornly as Riya held out the tray.

Nathanial slowed and stopped by the door looking unhappily back at Sam. "Look. I know this isn't a good situation. But, much as I hate it, I'm a V…, we are … . Raf wants you here for ... for a while. He's made it clear that you need to be kept in good health and …." Nathanial ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "If you don't do as you're told your brother is going to be punished. Those are Raf's orders. You don't have any say in anything … so make life easier for everyone Sam and do as you're told, please."

"Jeez, Nate," said Dean picking up some toast and grinning coldly. "Didn't you think we noticed the chains, the stabbing, the kidnapping, and oh not forgetting the fangs, and all that?"

Nathanial ran a hand through his hair again, looking stressed. He glanced at Dean's smiling face and managed a rueful grin.

Riya put the tray onto the bed in front of Sam removing the small thermos cup of coffee and retreated to the chair by the door.

Nathanial watched as Sam picked up the tray slowly and settled it on his lap. He nodded at Sam and headed out of the room again.

Dean picked up his plastic utensils and started to eat. He watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. Nate might have said that Sam was probably okay, but that didn't mean that his brother really _was_ okay. One way or another he had to find a way to get Sam out of this place. Now he wished he'd taken the time to let Bobby know what was going on. But he'd been so tired - not thinking straight and he'd focused so hard on catching up to Sammy and the Vamps that he'd neglected to update Bobby. Big mistake that. He should have called. If Bobby was gonna start searching for them, he'd be looking in the wrong State. No-one was gonna be coming to help them out of this mess. Yeah, he'd definitely screwed up on that one. Now he had to hope that that mistake wasn't gonna cost Sammy his life.

Sam picked up his plastic fork and stabbed it into the eggs. He ate slowly and mechanically, clearly not enjoying any of it.

Riya smiled. "Anyway, as I was saying. There are towels, underwear, t'shirts and and some day and night clothes for each of you. Either Benjamin or Steven will be up after breakfast, and one of you at a time will get their chain removed for twenty minutes while you take a bath or a shower. I rang Raf earlier, and he's gonna buy some more clothes and shaving cream and stuff. He should be back any minute now."

This time Sam didn't make it to the bathroom before he threw up.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	14. Chapter 14

Nathanial and Riya cleaned up Sam's vomit mess with some towels and a bucket of soapy water.

Dean spent the time trying to get a stressed out brother to lie down and relax. He kept reassuring Sam that things were gonna be okay – though for the life of him, Dean didn't know exactly how he was gonna be able to make anything okay.

Sam eventually lay down, with his hand massaging at his headache. He fell asleep pretty soon after. Between the stress and the pain, Sam really had no energy to fight off the effects of the drugs he'd dry swallowed an hour before. Dean's worry meter went up another notch at the lack of strength Sam was displaying. He thought about covering him up with a blanket. But Sam was jittery – scared half to death that Raf was gonna touch him again. Anything touching him at the moment would make him jump six feet, drugs or no drugs. Dean stared at his brothers' too pale face. Somehow, he had to get Sammy out. Somehow. Dean started pacing, up and down passed the bed, kicking at the chain around his ankle in frustration as he went. He watched the Vamps, watched the door, watched Sammy and he worried.

Nathanial washed his hands in the bathroom and rolled down his sleeves as he came out. He went over to the bed and looked down at Sam's sleeping face with concern. "We'll try to get him to eat something a little blander when he wakes up. Right now, any sleep he gets is too good for him to miss out on."

Riya dried her wet hands down her jeans. "Next time he throws up, you can clean it up, Dean," she said with her face screwed up in disgust. Her eyes softened as she looked over and saw Sam asleep on the bed. "I'll ask Crystal to make up some soup or something for him," she said softly.

Dean kept pacing, glancing worriedly at Sam. He shoved his hands into his front pockets and froze for a second. His eyes widened a little and then, he started pacing the floor again.

"Come and finish your breakfast, Dean," said Nathanial, picking up his tray and putting the warming lids down onto the floor. He sat back in the chair.

Dean settled carefully back onto the bed so as not to wake Sam. He picked up his breakfast and started eating again.

Riya took Sam's tray and the towel and bucket she'd used to clean up Sam's mess. "I'll be back to take my shift in five, Nathanial."

Nathanial smiled at her, and waved his fork at her before scooping up some mushrooms. "You should try to get some sleep too, Dean, and you know that sling is actually supposed to be used, don't you?" said Nathanial, around a mouth full of food.

Dean nodded, not really paying attention, he stuck his hand back into the sling around his neck and picked up some of his toast. "So Nate, you really like classic cars?"

Nathanial nodded his head. "That's one gorgeous machine you have there. '67 Chevrolet Impala with heavy duty suspension and turbo jet, 427 cubic inch V8 engine. I had to have a peek under the bonnet."

Dean grinned, "Yeah, you like classic cars all right. Hope you're treating her right. She's not parked out in the rain is she?"

Nathanial looked shocked at the suggestion. "Parked her under the carport right next to the Merc's," he said finishing his food.

Riya came back in, carrying a crime novel. She sat on the arm of the chair beside Nathanial. "Crystal's gonna make up some chicken and vegetable broth for your brother. She'll have him back on his feet before you know it."

Dean flashed her one of his trademark smiles and finished his breakfast. Nathanial took the trays, leaving Riya sitting, on watch, in the chair. She opened up her novel and Dean leaned back, deep in thought.

_SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS_

Sam made an inarticulate sound of distress and Dean's eyes snapped open from his nap.

Raf was there. Standing beside the bed and staring down at Sam.

In a moment Sam was frantically clambering over his brothers legs and off the other side of the bed, he put his back up against the wall and hauled up some of the chain into his hands ready to defend himself. Dean was beside him in the next moment, wrapping some of his own chain around his fist. He wrapped an arm around Sam and supported his wavering body, and glared fiercely at the Vampire.

Raf ignored Dean. He ran his eyes over Sam with a frown, peering into Sam's white face. Then he was gone so fast that it was as if he had disappeared like those witches on that Bewitched show did. A small breeze created by the speedy movement brushed the brothers. The pair of them stood there together for nearly a whole minute, simply stunned, until Dean felt Sam's weight leaning more and more heavily on him and helped him back onto the bed. "Damn, that Vamp moves fast," said Dean under his breath as he worked to untangle the chains.

Sam eyed Benjamin in the chair. He had looked up curiously when Raf had turned up, but now had his head back in the book he was reading. Sam shook his head and spoke softly in a slurry drugged voice. "Dean, I don't think therrrre's a Hunter on the planet that could take hiiiim down."

Dean had a brash protest on the tip on his tongue, something on the line of 'everything has a weakness'. But then remembered Raf beating a crossbow bolt fired at him from only fifteen feet or so. He hesitated thoughtfully and whispered back to Sam. "Only way he'd get beaten is if he's taken by surprise."

Benjamin guffawed, not looking up from his book. "Nothing ever surprises Raf, even when he's meditating he's alert. He might even have heard your conversation just now." Benjamin smirked and went back to reading.

Dean sat back down on the bed, feeling too wired now to sleep. Raf was … like an uber-Vampire. Every advantage that Vampires' had seemed to be extremely enhanced in the elder Vampire, including hearing. Anything that Dean wanted to share with Sam was _not_ gonna happen with any of the Vamps in the room, or with Raf in the house for that matter - not even in whispers. But Dean had found a paperclip still left in his pocket. The one he'd left there just for bad situations like this one. He'd thought Raf had gotten everything out of his pockets, but – there it was. And now he had some hope. They'd only need a bit of planning and a couple of minutes and he could get Sam out of here.

Dean worked the plan. First, he needed to have Sam able to walk a little better than he was able to do at the moment, that meant maybe two or three days before they tried anything. Second, he needed to find out where the carport was so that they weren't messing around when they had the chance to run for it. Third, he had to check the best routes out of the house and down to the Impala. And last, he had to find a way of knocking out the Vamp on watch without alerting the rest of the Vamps. He figured that they had one chance and one chance only and Dean had to make sure that they didn't waste it.

Dean picked up one of Sammy's hands and held it in his own across his stomach. Benjamin only glanced up at the movement. Sam's eyes were on the door, watching nervously for a reappearance of Raf. Dean planted a couple of fingers in the palm of his brothers hand and started to tap out a message in Morse code. He tapped. '_Hey bro, up for a chat?_'

Sam tapped back a clear _'yes_' on his stomach, followed by: '_Tell me the plan_.'

Dean held back a smirk. '_Know me too well_.'

Sam managed a small grin. _'Was wishing I had one.'_

Dean tapped back. '_Got a paperclip. Think three days, midday, best time, if you're up for it.'_

Sam frowned. '_Two days. What if Raf attacks?_'

'_Then we leave first opp. Okay two days. Need Impala's location first, and route out.'_

Sam yawned and tapped: _'We're up high, but oak tree has big branches near balcony.'_

Dean tapped: _'Check it ASAP. Need route out. Get to sleep.'_

He let go of the hand, leaving it where it was on his stomach and settled back to keep watch.

_SNSNSNSNSNSNNSN_

Steven took over the next shift. "He still asleep?" he asked awkwardly stating the obvious.

Dean had straightened up out of his light post lunch doze. "Yeah, Nate's giving him some strong pain meds. Keeps making him sleepy."

Steven nodded and dug a pack of cards out of his pocket. "Here. Thought you'd like something to do."

Dean managed a grin. "Thanks, I've gotten tired of counting the freckles on my arm."

Steven smiled tentatively and settled back into the chair with a magazine.

Dean shuffled the cards and started a game of solitaire. "What are you reading?"

Steven glanced up and showed him the cover. "Travel mag."

Dean titled his head curiously. "You like to travel?"

Steven frowned. "Never wanted to before I got turned. But after you've spent seventy years or so staring at the same hills and valleys you kind a want to see something different. Think I might take Crystal to see Australia, maybe New Zealand, one day."

"So, what's holding you back?"

Steven turned back to his magazine and for a moment, Dean thought he wasn't gonna answer. Then he lifted his eyes again. "Family. Lost one family, not gonna lose the rest of this one without a fight."

Dean nodded. "Know the feeling," he said.

Steven glanced over to Sam's sleeping body, and then back to Dean again. His expression had tightened. "Your friend Murphy killed Rachel."

"Suppose that's why you killed him then," replied Dean.

"We weren't hurting people," said Steven. "He killed her because she's a Vampire."

"You guys do have a nasty reputation."

"But, she'd never have hurt a fly, she was as gentle as a lamb." Steven cursed. "You Hunter's are all the same."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. "You heard of a Vamp called Lenore?"

Steven's eyes snapped up, his gaze fierce, he half stood up out of the chair. "You haven't hurt her ..."

"Sam made friends with her." Dean turned some cards over. "He convinced me that she wasn't doing any harm, so we left her clan alone."

Steven's eyes stared into Dean's, looking for the truth. He dropped back slowly into the chair again.

Dean laid out some more cards. "Way we work is we look for unexplained deaths, weird murders, that sort of thing. We're in the business of _saving_ people from the supernatural stuff that hunts them. We don't hunt things that don't hurt people. But I can't say that for every Hunter out there. Actually, we had to fight off a Hunter that went after Lenore, even though he knew she wasn't hurting anything."

Steven was quiet for a while. "You made an enemy out of another Hunter to protect a Vampire?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, don't know why she's so different, but she's pretty descent, you know? Can't say that for some of the other Vampires we've come across though."

"Has to do with human blood and succumbing to the Need," said Steven.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"Raf say's it's written in that book of his. Vampires lose their humanity gradually over time if they succumb to their Need and drink human blood. The more blood they drink because they Need to, the less human they become. There's more to it than that, of course. Self control has a lot to do with it, but once you start giving in to the Need, it becomes harder and harder to resist the next time."

"You were gonna drain Sam dry though, weren't you?" said Dean trying to control the anger in his voice. "When you first caught him. You were all gonna drain him 'till he died."

Steven nodded. "We can take human blood occasionally, for self defense, as long as we don't feed when we feel the Need. Taking a Hunter is like self defense. We kill Hunter's, not anyone else, and we're very careful about it. We can see the truth about what's in Raf's book. You just have to be with Raf and Benjamin to know the difference. Raf didn't find out about the curse until he'd already been a Vampire for about a century. And Benjamin was a stray Vampire that Raf picked up. He's indulged a few times too many too. He hated it though. He was trying to commit suicide when Raf found him in Roseburg. He _wouldn't_ have been allowed to feed on your brother that day. He can't resist the Need as well as the rest of us.

Dean bent his head thoughtfully. "That sort of explains a lot. What else is written in this book of Raf's?"

Steven shook his head. "You'll need to ask Raf that. He keeps it on him constantly. None of us have been allowed to read it."

Dean turned over some cards. "Raf is the leader of your clan. But you agree that he's … a little too Vampish, so why are you all so loyal to him?"

Steven smiled, "You'd have to be a Vampire to understand. It's sort of instinct, gravitating towards the strongest of us. It's not physical strength – it's … a Vampire thing."

Sam stirred on the bed beside Dean. He kicked out with his leg in his sleep, messing the stacks of cards up on the bed and muttered incoherent words of distress. Dean, made shushing sounds trying to soothe the nightmare away before it took hold.

Steven's smiled sadly. "I used to have a little brother once. Loved him more than anything too."

Dean looked over to him.

"He was killed when a runaway horse kicked his ribs in. He was only fifteen." Steven looked over at Sam's too pale face. "Raf's got his eye on your brother," he said very softly. He picked up the magazine then and bent over it.

Dean stared. Obviously the conversation was closed. But he would have liked to ask if Steven meant what he _thought_ he meant, with that last comment. And Saints above, Dean was praying that he was wrong.

_SNSNSNSNSNNSNSNSNSN_


	15. Chapter 15

Dean had been thinking of going back to sleep again. But Sam's body next to him was too restless. Every move Sam made half woke him up. Finally, he opened his eyes and saw a curly haired female Vamp playing with a tranq gun sitting in the chair. Well, that sort of thing had a way of chasing any thoughts of trying to relax back into sleep clean away. Dean stretched carefully, mindful of his sore shoulder. He sat up against the head board, yanking irritably at the oversized t'shirt and sweats he'd been given to sleep in. "Mornin'" he said to her.

The Vamp lifted the tranq gun at once and aimed it right at Dean's chest.

Dean lifted an eyebrow at her. Obviously, a nervous type. No wonder she mostly took the night ...err … day shift. Dean's glance flickered over to the window. The sun was setting now, and soon the house would be filled with the creaking of floorboards as the Vamps got up, showered and went down for 'breakfast'.

Sam stirred beside him and blinked open his eyes at Dean. In moments he'd re-registered where he was and what the situation was. He snapped upright on the bed.

The Vamp's tranquilizer gun jumped in her hand and she snapped it around to take aim on Sam.

Sam stared at it and then at her with his huge brown eyes.

There was a pattering of rapidly approaching footsteps out in the hallway and and Dean leaned sideways so that he could see who was outside in the hall. "Holy mother of …. " he muttered.

Sam glanced at Dean and saw his brother's jaw drop open, so Sam leaned sideways into his brother to see what he was staring at. Another Vamp had appeared. She was the same petite thing that he'd seen back at the penthouse dressed in a tight green dress and stilettos. Except now she was wearing huge fluffy bunny slippers and a layered chiffon nightie that was slightly see through and short enough to show off her pink lace and satin underwear.

"I'm so sorry, Diane," she was saying to the nervous Vamp in the chair. "I don't know how it happened but I slept in again, can you give me fifteen more minutes and I'll be ready to take over?"

Diane's eyes were fixed on the Winchester's nervously, and she wouldn't shift them, even to glance back at the other Vamp. Her gun hand shook and she braced it with her other hand. "Crystal, why'd Raf want these Hunters? I'm not good at this sort of thing. Why the hell did I just spend another four hours in the middle of the day guarding two Hunters?"

"Raf said it's something to do with the book," whispered Crystal conspiratorially from behind her hand. "You know he'll explain everything to us soon enough." She leaned forward to peer around the doorway at the brothers. "Dee, I think you're making them nervous, why don't you put the tranquilizer gun down. I'm pretty sure they're not going to hurt you, sweetie."

Diane frowned looking at the Winchester's expressions. Nervous was what _she_ was feeling and she could see a mile away that the two humans on the bed were definitely not feeling nervous. By the open jawed, appreciative expressions on their faces she would have guessed that ... . Her shoulders slumped a little. "Crystal, tell me you've at least put on a dressing gown."

"Oh. Weeeell ...."

"Don't bother answering – I can tell from their faces that you haven't."

"Sorry Dee, I didn't think. I just … I'll um, get dressed."

"Oh, don't bother on our account," said Dean with a wicked grin, "In fact, we'd both appreciate it an awful lot if you did your watch dressed just as you are."

Crystal's eyes widened, she made an odd strangled sound and dashed off.

Dean's grin stretched into a smile, but what was even better was the small smile that Sam shared with him. The first smile that Sam had managed since Dean had told his brother about Dad's last words. For the first time since then, Dean had some hope that things could be good between them again. He almost let out a yell of relief.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The next day, when it was almost time for Nathanial to come back with Sam's meds, Dean made sure that he was up and pacing, looking restless. It wasn't all feigned; if he managed to get what he was after today, then tonight was the night when they'd make their move.

Nathanial fell for it the moment he stepped into the room. "Hey Dean, feeling cooped up?"

Sam, sitting on the bed playing with the cards, glared. "Wouldn't you be?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "The most interesting thing to do is go take a shower every now and then. I could really use some fresh air."

Nathanial shook his head. "Best I can do is let you out onto the balcony for a while."

Dean looked over at Sam and sighed. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

Nathanial opened up the doors onto a nice sized balcony complete with a few pot plants and a small metal table and some chairs. A cool evening breeze brushed through the french doors sweeping the curtains away. He set his medical bag down onto the table.

Dean and Sam had to untangle and stretch out their chains to get out onto the balcony. Sam went to lean out over the railing while Dean sat down and let Nathanial start removing bandages.

"Wow, uhh this place is huge," prompted Sam a little hesitantly.

"Raf had it built about 1925 or there abouts," said Nathanial. "He's made a lot of money over the last century or so and has a number of houses, apartments and properties here and there."

Dean winced as the last of the gauze was pulled away from his shoulder.

Nathanial used a sterile wipe to clean around the area. "That's healing up just fine now," he said. "I don't think we'll need to put more than a light bandage on it after tomorrow. Now let me check those wrists."

Dean looked over at Sam, he tilted his head pointedly at Nathanial, saying with the move, that Sam needed to fish for more information.

Sam gave a half nod and turned back to look at the view. He whistled softly. "Dean, I can see a barn and a huge gazebo out there and a pond and there must be like four garages."

"Six garages and about four carports," said Nathanial without looking up.

Sam leaned over the rail further, peering into the darkness. "I can't see them."

"They're around the side," said Nathanial nodding his head to the left.

"Umm, what do you need so many garages and carports for?" fished Sam.

Nathanial lifted one of Dean's wrists and checked the healing cuts on it. "Most of us have cars of some sort," he said idly dabbing some cream onto the worst cut. "Then there's some farm machines . I actually had to pull the tractor out to make room for your car."

Dean nodded. "I appreciate that. Don't like my baby to get cold or wet."

Sam snorted under his breath. "That's the Impala he's crooning over."

Nathanial chuckled. "She's snuggled up warmly enough. If you peer around the wall there, you could probably see her," he said. "I ah, I took the liberty of giving her a check up too."

Dean looked over at Nathanial with an affronted frown.

Sam quickly looked around at Dean, "Uh oh," he said quietly.

Nathanial put up his hands defensively. "I'm fully qualified as a mechanic too you know, and I … . Well, yesterday you were both asleep and she was dripping oil, so ..."

Dean put up a hand placatingly. "Okay, okay don't get uptight. Usually I'm particular about who gets to touch my baby and I at least like to be asked first, but since you _did_ try to ask, I'll let you live. I'd only really worry if you didn't know how to treat my baby properly. So, you fixed her?"

Nate grinned and nodded. "Yeah, gave her a full oil change too. Your oil filter will need replacing in the next couple of months and I noticed you have problems with your suspension. The shock absorbers could do with replacements and one of the coil springs isn't gonna last long either.

"Nate," said Dean, "Pass that by me again. You're a fully qualified mechanic, _as well_ as a Doctor?"

Nathanial nodded. "It's Nathanial. I had to do something with my time, and being a Doctor amongst Vampires isn't really useful, you know. So I got myself a diploma in mechanics, and another one as an electrician. I'm starting a law degree next year too."

Dean stared in disbelief.

Nathanial grinned, and went back to re bandaging Dean's wrist. "That's nothing. Raf's got enough diploma's and degrees to wallpaper your room. 'Course, most of them are obsolete, and half of them would be classed as historical documents nowadays." he fastened off the gauze around Dean's wrist. "There, Dean, you're done." He glanced over at Sam. "You seem to be a bit brighter today, Sam. Your temperature is down and the medication and all the extra sleep seem to be doing the trick."

Sam pulled out a chair and straddled it, leaning his arms on the chair back. "Yeah, I do feel better, Doc. I'm not as dizzy and my head doesn't hurt as much, maybe down to a four or five on the pain scale now."

Nathanial pulled out a plastic bag and stuffed the used bandages and bits of paper from the new bandages into it. "Well then, it's your turn in the hot seat, Sam."

Dean bounced up out of the chair and leaned over the railing to peer around the side of the house. "She's okay," he said with a glance at Sam. "I can just make her out under the carport."

Sam moved more slowly over to the chair besides Nathanial's that Dean had just vacated.

"When did you get turned, Nate?" asked Dean off handily as he leaned on the railing and looked around into the night.

"It's _Nathanial_," said Nathanial with a touch of exasperation in his voice. "It happened not that long ago actually, June 1989. There was a fire in our apartment block. My girlfriend wasn't home thankfully, but by the time I woke up my bed was on fire. I had some serious burns and I remember passing out in the hallway from all the smoke. I probably would have died there. Next thing I remember, I was a Vampire and my burns were all healing up like magic, just like Raf's burns were."

Dean shook his head. "Man, that's awful."

Nathanial shrugged. "I was listed as deceased. My gravestone is … really creepy. Spent a whole year in denial, refusing to believe that I was a Vampire or that I or Vampires in general could actually exist. I hated being this for the longest time," he said waving his hand at his body. "Still do sometimes. I miss my parents, you know? And my little brother and sister. My girlfriend ended up marrying someone else. But, I couldn't hate Raf. I wouldn't exist at all without what he did, even though he did it for reasons of his own."

"I'm sorry," said Sam softly, looking haunted. "House fires are …. awful."

Nathanial shook his head. "That was what, twenty one years ago now. I'm over it. I keep an eye on my parents whenever we're close by. They're getting old now."

"Why'd Raf turn you then?" asked Dean, leaning against the rails. "If he did it for reasons of his own."

"Hmm?" Nathanial looked suddenly flustered. "He didn't know I had a girlfr … . He thought I was … . Well, you know, that's really his business. I need to get this check up done." He turned rather briskly to Sam. "Your blood pressure is still a little high, but that problem area in your head seems to be fixing itself just fine. Can I touch your head, Sam?"

Sam's brow drew down a bit, and he flinched involuntarily, but Dean pulled a chair up close and sat down next to him without a word. "'Kay," said Sam a little uncertainly.

Nathanial's examination was gentle and quick, and at the end of it he huffed out a relieved breath. "I think your healing up just fine on your own, Sam," he said. "Another few days with lots of rest and the meds and you should be feeling like yourself again. I'd be even happier if you had some colour and got your appetite back though."

Sam turned away, "That's not likely to happen in this place," he said quietly.

Nathanial glanced up, feeling the sudden change in tension levels. He started packing his things away. "It's time to go back inside. Crystal's bringing your dinner up shortly, I'll see what kind of reading material I can find for you both and maybe I can get a TV set in here as well."

Dinner was crumbed veal and vegetables with apple pie. Dean ate every bit of his dinner and then half of his brother's as well when Sam put his tray aside after only a few bites.

Nathanial frowned at Sam's lack of appetite. He gave out more antibiotics to Dean and handed over Sam's pills. Then he turned and helped Benjamin set up a small TV set on the dresser.

Sam swallowed the anti inflammatory tablets but he quietly spat out the pain meds when the Vamps had their backs turned.

About an hour later, Benjamin took over watch from Steven. He settled back in the chair and flipped through channels with the remote until he found an episode of Stargate to watch.

Dean tapped out a message on Sam's arm in code again. '_Still up to go today?'_

Sam tapped back against Dean's leg. '_Yes. How about Ben?'_

Dean nudged a heavy book that he'd left on the bed. _'If we can't get him to go out, will hit him with War and Peace and use chain.'_

Sam tapped, _'Only one chance, can't blow it.'_

Dean tapped: _'Won't.'_

SNSNSNNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	16. Chapter 16

Hour's had passed and Sam was getting worried. He shifted his hand across the bed and checked to see if Benjamin was paying attention. When he was sure it was safe he tapped at Dean's side in Morse code. 'Something's wrong.'

Dean nodded his head once. He knew it too. The house was still busy even though the sun had come up half an hour ago. None of the Vamps had gone to bed. And Benjamin in the chair, kept glancing at his watch every ten minutes. Something was messing with the Vamps routine, and that meant a delay on the escape plan. Dean chewed at his lip. No-one had let spill exactly when Raf's ceremony was supposed to be happening. He prayed that that wasn't the reason for the change in the Vamps usual routine. If so, then they were both in deep trouble.

Benjamin turned off the TV and glanced once again at his Rolex watch, and then over at the Winchester's. He grinned at them humorlessly when he saw that they were both still awake.

Sam started to sit up. It was more than obvious that something was up, so he might as well ask and see if Ben would spill. "So, what's going on?"

Benjamin didn't answer. Instead, he lifted the tranquillizer gun and shot three darts into Dean's chest.

Dean grunted. He'd been totally … unprepared for that … move ….

"No," shouted Sam, catching Dean before he could fall off the bed. Dean was out cold. Sam scrambled off the bed and yanked out the darts. He spun furiously to face the Vamp. "Damn it, you ..."

Benjamin stood and shot another tranquillizer dart into Sam's chest.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam felt something. A touch. A hand tracing gently over his skin. There were voices in the background around him too. He frowned, his eyes too heavy and his body too tired to worry about the touch or the voices. He pulled away murmuring a protest, wanting to sink back into the comforts of sleep, but moments later the touch was back again tracing down over his throat and caressing his chest. The voices got louder, clearer.

"How come he's waking up?" said a voice down by his feet.

Nathanial's voice sounded puzzled too. "Between the tablets and the tranquillizer shot he should be out for the whole day. Maybe I diluted the tranquillizer solution too much … I don't know."

Sam tried to move away from the persistent touch again. Something brushed at a particularly sore spot on his chest. The voices in the background were getting louder and clearer. Sam forced his eyes open.

Raf sat beside him, he lifted a reddened finger idly from the sore spot on Sam's chest and sucked at it . Immediately, Sam tried to pull back from Raf, but there was something soft yet unyielding pressed up behind him leaving him no where to go. A quick scan of the room showed that he'd been moved. He was lying on a sofa - minus his shirt - again. Raf sat on the edge of the sofa beside him and the rest of Raf's nest sat or stood in a semi circle around the front of the sofa where Sam lay. A small trickle of blood leaked up out of the small hole left by the tranquillizer dart. Raf caught the trickle on his finger and licked at it.

"We could tranq him again," suggested Benjamin, standing at the end of the sofa near Sam's feet.

Sam blinked away sleep and tried to sit up. "What ... Where's Dean?" He scanned the room. No sign of Dean anywhere. But for the first time in days, he was unfettered. They were in a sitting room. And by the look of the trees through the gap in the drapes, they were back on the ground floor. A huge bookcase was filled with stacks of books that had yet to be arranged properly. There were boxes sitting on the floor beside the bookcase and a long polished redwood table had two computers and printers sitting on it. All of the Vamps had pulled up the chairs and seats that belonged around the room. Only Benjamin was left standing. The single door in the room led out towards a staircase. Sam's training kicked in and he calculated a way out of the room as he watched the Vamps around him warily.

Raf placed a cold hand on the center of Sam's chest and pushed him down.

Sam wondered if somehow, the Vamp had read his mind without touching his head. "Where's my brother? What the hell do you want?" he asked again, trying to keep the sound of fear out of his voice.

"We're holding a meeting Sam," said Nathanial. "Dean's been tranquillized, remember? He's still upstairs."

Benjamin pulled the tranquillizer gun out of his pocket and offered it to Raf.

"No," said Nathanial. "If you overdose him you could kill him."

Raf smiled down at Sam and stroked a lock of hair off of Sam's cheek. "We've already gone over the essential details. He can be awake for the rest of the meeting, as long as we don't reveal important details."

"I don't believe it," said Diane staring wide eyed at Sam. "I mean, I've read as much about Vampires as I could, searching for years and years for … something like this. And you're telling us that Sam is the … the main ingredient that would let us do this?"

Steven shook his head too, he wrapped an arm around Crystal who was sobbing tearlessly. "I've researched it too," he said in a hoarse voice. "There's nothing out there that even mentions the possibility that your book mentions. Are you _certain_ it's accurate? Do you know for sure that it will work?"

Raf shook his head. "No Steven, as far as I know, it has never been tried. That's because the main ingredient, a Hunter with demon blood in his veins, was … well, non-existent." Raf dabbed his finger idly in the spot of blood again and lapped at it as he peered down at Sam. "Which is part of the reason for this meeting," he went on. "If you were to taste his blood, you would notice the difference right away, and you would understand why I have such faith in this ceremony."

Sam shrank back underneath Raf's hand, but no one seemed to notice.

"Oh come on, Raf. It's _got_ to be a mistake." said Nathanial. "Otherwise, someone somewhere sometime would have heard about it."

"Have you known anything in my book to be inaccurate?" countered Raf.

"Well, no," said Nathanial. He turned troubled eyes onto Sam.

"I hardly believed it myself," said Raf. "I haven't explored the possibility myself because … as you said … how many Hunter's _are_ there, with demon blood in their veins?"

Riya sat in a chair close to Sam's head, with her arms clasped tightly around her knees. "You can't tell us this sort of thing, Raf," she said so softly that it was almost a whisper. Her eyes were locked desperately onto Sam's as she started rocking herself to and fro in the chair. "I mean. I can't _do_ this if I don't think it will work, I'd go crazy."

"Riya dear, I will look after you. I may not choose to go through with … the ceremony myself, there are other … options that I'd like to consider first," Raf smiled fleetingly down at Sam and then turned to look at Riya again. "I will be the last to go, if I do choose to go through with it. If anything untoward were to happen, I will refuse to go any further so that I can still take care of you."

"What do you think would happen to us if it doesn't work," said Nathanial nervously.

"Not anything too dire I expect," drawled Raf, idly stroking his hand over Sam's chest. "At the most you will have indulged yourselves in a somewhat delicious meal. As long as you don't feel the Need you should be perfectly alright, which is why Benjamin will be the first to try, if he so chooses. I would rather not tempt him beyond his endurance."

Sam found his tongue at last. "Look, don't you think I should know what this is all about?"

Raf shook his head.

"At least you can tell me what you plan on doing with me and my brother once this ceremony of yours is finished."

Raf tilted his head. "To be frank, I hadn't thought beyond the ceremony itself. I suppose, if things go as planned, your brother could be released unharmed. Consider it --- payment for your services Samuel."

"And me?" Sam peered carefully at Raf.

Something flickered in Raf's eyes. "We will cross that bridge when we come to it, Samuel."

Sam slumped back against the sofa. It was pretty clear to him that Raf didn't expect Sam to survive the ceremony.

Well fine then, damn it all to hell. As long as Dean was alright, that was all that really mattered to him. At the end of the day, he wasn't looking to 'survive' much longer anyway. He didn't want Dean to live with the fear of what his brother might turn into - what their dad had warned him about – what he might have to kill his own brother for. Dean was already tiptoeing around him like he was something volatile. It wouldn't take long before things got worse, before Dean was treating him like the monster that he was. It would be better if he died now, and got it over with – before the monster inside of him hurt anybody.

The last thing that Sam wanted was to become something that his own brother would have to hunt, and now that he knew that he had demon blood inside of him, well, nothing good was ever gonna come out of _that_, so there was no point in fighting the inevitable.

But Sam didn't believe for a second that Raf would just let Dean go when this was all over. After all, Dean was a Hunter. He could come back after everything was over and hunt the Vampires down. Scratch that, it was almost _guaranteed_ that Dean would come back after and hunt down Raf at least, especially if his brother died in Raf's little ceremony. Raf wouldn't risk Dean bringing back more Hunter's. Anyone could see that he was protective of his nest. Raf would kill Dean right after Sam had died in the ceremony.

Riya shook her head and looked at Raf. "I'm in. I"ll do it. I've _got_ to take the chance, even if nothing actually happens to us. I've got to try."

"You don't have to make your decision today my dear," said Raf.

Riya nodded. "I know, Raf. But I won't change my mind."

Crystal was shaking a little. She stepped forward. "I … need a little reassurance. I'm gonna have to taste him."

Steven's teeth were already elongating, he stepped forward and caught Crystal's hand. "I'll need to taste too, then."

Nathanial frowned, looking over at Sam. "I wish I hadn't messed up with the tranquillizers," he murmured.

Raf moved back. "You can all taste Samuel, all except Benjamin. Taste him and you'll know."

Sam shuffled back on the sofa his eyes widening in sudden terror. In front of him, there were fangs appearing, on each and every one of the Vampire's – even Benjamin. Even Nathanial. All eyes were fixed on him and as one they stepped closer.

Panic!

Sam shuffled rapidly backwards over the arm of the sofa, he tugged at a stool and flung it tripping Riya who stumbled awkwardly back, and fell into the other Vampires like a bowling ball, striking them all down.

Sam bolted for the door, hearing curses and hisses behind him. He was through in an instant, and slammed the door shut behind him. He spun the key in the lock, and saw it shudder under the weight of one of the Vamps. He spun, running as fast as he was able, he flung open the front door then doubled back and ran for the stairs.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	17. Chapter 17

Sam got to the bedroom an instant later. If the door could hold the Vamps for even five minutes he'd have a chance to get Dean out. "Dean," he gasped out, skidding to a stop by the bed. He tapped at Dean's face, pulling on his brother's body.

Dean half opened drugged eyes. "S'up S'mmy?" he slurred. "Wan sleeeep."

"Shh, not so loud, gotta get you out ..." Sam started searching through Dean's pockets for the paperclip.

There was a furious roar down stairs and the sound of wood splintering. Then lots of heavy footsteps pounding across the floorboards. Raf's voice sounded loud and furious. "Crystal, Steven, Riya, Benjamin outside, two of you check the front, two round the back. Nathanial upstairs. I'll do this floor."

Sam didn't have time, he ran for the bathroom and hid behind the open door, listening as Nathanial's footsteps pounded up. He held his breath as Nathanial ran through the french doors and checked through the bathroom door before moving on down the hall. Sam waited, hardly daring to breathe.

Doors slammed open throughout the house. Running footsteps in the hall, checking everywhere. Finally Nathanial's footsteps sounded on the staircase again.

Quickly Sam made his way back to Dean. He patted at Dean's cheek again, whispering softly: "Please Dean, you gotta wake up …"

Dean opened his eyes again blearily. "Sammy?" he slurred, blinking at him with dilated eyes and then he focussed blearily passed Sam.

There was a sound of a boot scuffing on the floor. Sam spun around.

Raf stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. He regarded Sam coldly. "Samuel, did you _really_ think I would be taken in? I've seen every trick, every move that _exists _at least a hundred times. I've been inside your head, Samuel. I _know_ you." Behind him the other vampires appeared and crowded passed Raf.

Sam backed away as the others stepped forward. He looked at them, but he didn't recognize them anymore as the friendly beings that had been chatting with him and Dean. These were ... predators, more like pack animals and they were _herding _him, edging him towards a corner.

Nathanial staggered to a stop amongst them with a frown. He shuddered and his teeth retracted. He stared for a moment into Sam's terrified eyes, then back-peddled over to Raf. "No, Raf please, we can do this another way," he said appealing to the elder Vampire.

Dean frowned worriedly at Sam and the Vamps, blinking his blurry vision into focus. He rolled clumsily into a sitting position on the bed and tried to stand up, tried to move himself between the Vampires and his brother. Raf stepped forward and snagged Dean by the front of his t'shirt keeping him firmly in place. Dean tried to hit the Vamp, striking out with clumsy blows, tried to break the grip on his shirt but Raf was completely oblivious to him. Oblivious too, to Nathanial's pleas. His eyes were feral as he watched his kin approaching Sam.

Sam glared back at the stalking Vampires. He could see only one chance of escape. He spared a moment to glance sorrowfully at his brother, then dodged passed something that was barely recognizable as Crystal and dove for the french doors, fully intending to dive off of the balcony.

"Sammy!" yelled Dean with a fear filled voice. He'd seen something in Sammy's eyes just then that terrified him.

Steven snagged his waist and his forearm mid step, spun with him and body slammed him against the wall so hard that the wind was completely knocked out of Sam, pain burned through his rib cage and along his left arm. He had a moment to gasp for air like a fish out of water. And then they were on him.

Sam howled as he felt the first agonizing bite sink into his arm.

"No! Ge' off him, leave h'm 'lone! SAM! " yelled Dean trying his best to break Raf's hold on him.

Sam couldn't see his brother passed the press of bodies. Hands were all over his skin, raking and tearing. He was snagged around the neck by Steven, who spun him around into the Vampires that were so close around him that Sam could barely move, barely breathe as they crushed inward against him. Sam tried to curl himself inwards protectively, pushing and shoving at the hands on him, screaming out his pain. Then they were biting. One right over his heart, another on his back, another bite to his side, another, another ... .

Benjamin snarled and crushed Sam up against Steven's body until he was pressed between them like meat in a sandwich. He bared his fangs in Sam's face and bit viciously into his shoulder.

Sam screamed in agony.

"Enough!" said Raf, as he yanked Benjamin off of Sam.

Suddenly there were no hands, no teeth, no crushing bodies. Sam staggered back away from them all and sagged against the wall and would have fallen were it not for Raf's arm around his waist.

"Benjamin," sighed Raf. "You were told: no tasting."

Benjamin grinned back unrepentantly. His fangs still prominent and red with Sam's blood; his gaze locked onto Sam hungrily.

Sam struggled, trying to free himself from Raf, but his movements were sluggish and he felt so weak. He shivered and looked down at himself to see multiple trickles of blood running down his arms and chest and onto his jeans. He shivered harder. Shock, the word rose from inside somewhere. He was going into shock.

Sam scanned automatically for Dean. His brother was unconscious, lying half on half off the bed with a trickle of blood spilling from a split lip.

"His blood," purred Diane, stepping closer to Sam again, wide eyed with lust as her teeth slowly retracted. "Oh, his blood!"

"Oh God," whispered Crystal. "Raf, you were right. His blood is _amazing_. I can taste it, there _is_ something in it that I can't describe."

"If Crystal is in," said Steven, "then so am I. I'll do it. I don't care what happens, I'm gonna take the chance."

Benjamin stepped back. "His blood is deliciously different, I can taste the difference, but I don't think I want … . I don't know if …" He glared at Sam. "I don't know." He turned away.

Raf pulled Sam's sagging body upright against his chest. "Nathanial, you haven't tasted yet, come and take your turn."

Sam lifted his head with effort and stared at Nathanial. Oh hell, he was gonna have to brace for another attack. Gonna have to find some strength to fight back.

But Nathanial shook his head slowly. "I don't need to taste," he stared wide eyed at Sam for a moment, and then hurried out of the room.

"Oh Lord," whispered Riya, looking at Sam with huge horrified eyes. "Oh Lord, no, I bit him," she said again, her voice a full octave higher.

Crystal and Diane caught her by an arm each and spoke soothing words to her as they led her out of the room.

"Steven, Benjamin. I wish to speak to Samuel privately for a time," said Raf. "Why don't you two see to replacing that door downstairs."

Steven nodded glancing uncomfortably at Sam. He left with Benjamin.

Raf half dragged, half carried Sam into the ensuite and closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. He sat Sam down on the edge of the bathroom counter and pulled out a stack of hand towels.

Sam felt detached. He _knew _he should struggle against being taken anywhere by the Vampire but he was too exhausted to do anything. He _knew _he should protest about the door being locked but he was too stunned to say anything. He sat where he was placed on the counter _knowing _he should move, a distant part of him _screamed _for him to move. But instead he sat where he was, dazed and detached and simply breathed in and out, in and out.

Raf soaked a hand towel under the faucet and started cleaning away the blood from Sam's right arm. "The bites will heal over soon enough, Samuel," he said. "You've learned a valuable lesson, today."

Sam didn't respond. He didn't have the energy to do more than shiver.

Raf lifted Sam's other arm, and started cleaning it with another towel.

Sam's eyes widened. Pain! Like fire in his forearm, but Sam was busy reliving the horror of the last few minutes. Over and over, reliving being crushed and scratched and bitten by Vamps. Some of whom he'd actually grown to _like_.

Raf soaked another towel in the sink. "You shouldn't have run, Samuel. Vampires are predators. It's in our nature to lose ourselves to the hunt when a chosen prey runs away. It would have been far less violent had you submitted in the sitting room."

Raf started wiping the towel slowly and gently over Sam's shoulders. "Samuel? Are you listening? I have an important decision to make, and much of it will depend on you."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	18. Chapter 18

There was something subtle. A difference that Sam clued into. He frowned, bothered by it. Slowly he came through the layers of detachment that he had fallen into, alarmed somehow, more and more by the odd difference that had captured his attention.

Raf was cleaning him down with a towel. Sam flinched, his body reacting automatically in fear to Raf's presence. But Raf's presence was not the only thing that had been bothering him. A part of Sam had known that Raf was cleaning him up from the Vamp attack, but now - it was different. Now, there was a sensuality to what Raf was doing with the towel. Sam caught a breath of air. "I can … I can do that myself," he croaked out hoarsely. He tried to take the towel from Raf, but Raf wouldn't let the towel go.

Raf looked deeply into Sam's eyes. He was silent for a time, the towel stilled against Sam's chest.

"You have no idea how tempting I find you, Samuel," whispered Raf, lifting a hand to stroke across Sam's naked ribs.

Sam pressed himself away from the Vamp. Oh crap, he thought. He blinked, once, twice, _tried _to pull himself together. What the hell was he doing sitting on a vanity, when Dean was lying in the next room, unconscious in a house full of vicious Vampires? The thought of Dean in trouble had Sam coming further back to himself. He pushed roughly passed Raf, slithered off the vanity and stumbled away from him, heading unsteadily toward the bathroom door.

Raf chuckled. "The more I learn about you Samuel, the more I want to turn you. It's a decision that requires a great deal of thought, you see."

Sam stumbled and nearly fell. He turned, his eyes widened and he found himself shaking his head. "No, you can't. I don't want ..."

Raf shook his head. "You are so young, and naïve, the youngest that I would _ever_ have turned in my long, long existence. And like most youngsters, you're not thinking through what I'm _offering_ you, Samuel. I know that you're much smarter than that."

"But your ceremony ..." began Sam more than a little desperately. Suddenly, he felt dizzy. He needed to sit down somewhere, but Raf was pacing closer and Sam stiffened and locked his knees.

"Well naturally, I will wait until after the ceremony has taken place. Which means that I have to be _sure_ of you Samuel." He stepped closer, "You see, if I decide to turn you, then I won't be participating in the ceremony."

Sam was shaking his head. He backed away slowly toward the bathroom door.

"If, on the other hand, I find that turning you would not be … to my advantage, then I _could_ consider participating. So, I have a rather important decision to make," Raf smiled, letting his eyes drift intimately over Sam's body. "I need to be sure of you, Samuel. I need to be sure that I have made the correct decision, and that's only achievable by blending with you."

"No!" Sam didn't have time to spin away. Raf was on him before he could do more that twitch away, catching him around his thighs and pulling him abruptly up off his feet. Sam fell backwards, his head cracked hard onto the tiled floor, stunning him. His hurt wrist got caught underneath his body and snapped as Raf added his weight to Sam's. He felt Raf's lips close over his before he could let out a scream of protest or pain. He felt pressure building inside his head. He screamed under the mouth locked over his, tried to twist his head away …

Sam felt the cold presence entering his mind … sifting through memories, examining them and tossing away what did not interest him. It was all … too much. Sam tried to hold onto consciousness, terrified of what Raf was doing to his mind – what he might do. Tried to hold on so hard … but ... couldn't … .

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean's jaw hurt. He moaned and rolled on the bed, feeling the enticing pull of sleep tug at him insistently.

"No!"

Dean snapped up on the bed. "Sam? Sammy?" Dean rolled off the bed and stood up unsteadily. There was no reply from Sam. No nothing, and for a moment he wondered if he'd been dreaming about Sam yelling in terror. He rubbed at his injured jaw, working it from side to side. Crap! It hurt! He wouldn't be surprised if he had a cracked jaw bone.

He scanning the room. There was no one in the chair by the door. Sam's shackle and chain were coiled up on the empty seat. Dean felt the dull lethargy of the drugs in his system, and shook his head impatiently. Damn it, they'd drugged him again, and they'd taken his brother somewhere. So much for the great escape plan. Abruptly his breath caught in his throat. Crap, the ceremony! Could that be why the bastards had taken Sam?

Dean yanked at the chain on his foot and stretched it out as far as it would go. He moved out into the hallway and checked over the rail, peering down to the first floor. There was no-one there. The place seemed to be deserted.

Flashes of memory hit him. The other Vamps had attacked Sam. God, they'd _mauled_ his brother! They'd been like rabid animals, surrounding Sammy and ripping and tearing at him. He remembered fighting to get to Sammy. Remembered going for Raf's eyes and Raf had slogged him on the jaw. Crap, what had they done to Sam? What were they doing to him now?

Dean hurried back into the room, through the open french doors and checked over the balcony. There was no-one in sight anywhere. He dropped into a chair and pulled the paperclip out of his sweats pocket. He bent it and worked at the shackle. Damn it, how long had he been out for? They could be doing _anything _to Sammy. Dean worked feverishly. Damn the lock, it was a good one, complicated, probably about the best that money could buy. He pulled out the paperclip and bent it again and stuck it back into the lock.

An image of Sam's face came into his mind. He'd given Dean a strange look just before he'd tried to escape the Vamps. A look that had scared Dean half to death. Dean frowned and cursed softly at the stubborn shackle. He pulled out the paperclip and stuck the thing in his mouth using his teeth to re-shape it a third time.

What had it been about that look of Sammy's that had scared him so much? Just thinking about it had his heart rate up. Dean frowned worriedly and stuck the bent clip back into the lock. He'd never seen a look quite like it on Sam's face before. Although once, Sam had had something a lot like it. Dean paused, his hand at the lock frozen in place for a moment, as he remembered. That had been when … . Damn, when they'd had that encounter with a werewolf that had gone all to hell, and Sam had given him _that_ look ,just before he'd stepped out putting himself between an injured brother and the huge wolf. The look had said: 'sorry Dean, I'm gonna die now.' And he nearly damn well _had_ died.

"No way, Sam. Not on my watch," muttered Dean under his breath. There was a sound, that made him jump. Dean used a sleight of hand trick to drop the paperclip subtly back into his pocket as he stood and turned around, but there was no-one there. He blinked in surprise. The sound had definitely been close by. Dean's eyes fell onto the closed bathroom door. He padded over to it, kicking the chain out of his way impatiently, and put his ear against it. "Sam?"

There was sound from the bathroom. Dean nearly sagged with relief. Sam was okay. He was in the bathroom, probably cleaning up. But then, why wasn't he wearing the chain again? There was another sound, like a whimper, and Dean remembered the Vamps attacking. To hell with it. He twisted the doorknob, frowning when he found it locked. "Sammy?"

Nothing.

"Sam, I 'm coming in!" Dean stepped back and slammed his foot into the door. It crashed open onto a nightmare. Raf had Sam on the floor, locked in a kiss. The Vampire lifted his head and snarled at Dean furiously. Dean lifted up some of the chain harnessing his own fury at the sight of Sam motionless on the floor covered in bites and blood and with a clearly broken wrist, and his jeans opened up.

"You, I'm gonna end," said Dean. He lifted the chain and started swinging it in circles as he stepped warily closer to the Vamp.

Raf 's fangs elongated and he hissed. He was on his feet in a blur of movement tot fast to see properly. He stepped around Sam crouching into a fighting pose, and glared at Dean.

Dean concentrated on the Vampire's eyes, watching them for any hints of what was to come. The Vamp was eyeing the rotation of the chain. Dean knew what he was waiting for; knew what he was gonna do and readied himself.

The move was faster than he could see but Dean still managed to strike hard with the chain.

Raf yelled in pain as the chain lashed out and wrapped around his head. He retaliated instantly, swinging Dean around and smashing him into the wall before carrying Dean down to the floor beside his brother. Raf snarled again and pulled the chain away furiously. He gripped Dean's forearms locking them down. "_Why _does your brother still have hope of escape?" he snarled into Dean's face.

Dean twisted and heaved, but couldn't shift Raf off of him. He caught a glimpse of Sam lying unconscious beside him, and then Raf dragged Dean's head around and kissed him hard, right on the mouth.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	19. Chapter 19

Dean struggled, heaving with his body trying everything that he knew to get Raf off of him. This was beyond gross, this was wrong in the worst way. But Raf was glued to him lip to lip like a leech. He knew every move there was and … Crap. Crap, Crap, CRAP!

It was like the gross kiss was reaching into his head! Like Raf was peeling open his skull. And Dean knew that Raf was getting in – just like he'd done to Sammy. If Dean had had anything in his stomach he would have vomited right there and then – wished he could to get Raf off. He could almost _feel_ Raf in his head and abruptly Dean was ... lost …

"_Hey, Newbie!"_

_Dean tightened his grip on his backpack and walked a little faster, scanning the school grounds for Sammy._

"_Newbie, wait up!"_

_Dean quickened his steps, not wanting to get into a tussle the first week of school._

"_You got a kid brother? Kinda skinny with light brown longish hair?"_

_Dean froze and turned around. A short fat kid with thick glasses pulled up beside him huffing and puffing from running. _

"_Yeah, I got a kid brother."_

_The fat kid paled at the look on Dean's face. "Look, there's a senior called Carter, you know?"_

_Dean waited impatiently._

_The fat kid bit his lip. "Carter's into boys. Went after my cousin last May. He knocked into your brother outside the locker room just now, made him drop all his stuff , and ..."_

"_Where's the locker room?" asked Dean urgently._

_The kid pointed and Dean was running back to the school passed teachers and school kids. He slammed into the building and skidded around a corner just in time to see Sam deliver a massive roundhouse kick to a big kid nearly twice his size ...._

The memory blurred and changed. Dean tried to wrench free ….

_Dean circled Sam bent in a wrestlers crouch. He feinted to the left, but Sam read the move, stepped back, and continued to circle. "So ahh, your new friend, Robert," said Dean._

_Sam didn't even blink. "Yeah," he went for a snatch at Dean's neck._

_Dean flowed with the move and countered with a leg sweep. _

_Sam dodged back. He started circling Dean again looking for another hold._

"_You know he's gay, don't you?" asked Dean, striking aside a grip at his arm._

_Sam started moving in the opposite direction. "Yeah."_

_There was no easy way to ask the question so he just came out with it. "So, has he made a move on you?"_

_Sam blushed. "Yeah, but we're cool now."_

_Dean lifted an eyebrow._

"_I told him I wasn't interested. He's okay with that, and I'm still helping him with calculus, not that it's your friggin business, Dean."_

_Dean caught his brother with another leg sweep and wrestled his shoulders onto the ground._

"_Can't help lookin' out for you, you jerk."_

"_Bitch," said Sam and grinned._

Again the memory blurred and changed …

_Dean picked up one of Sammy's hands and held it in his own across his stomach. Benjamin only glanced up at the movement. Sam's eyes were on the door, watching nervously for a reappearance of Raf. Dean planted a couple of fingers in the palm of his brothers hand and started to tap out a message in Morse code. He tapped. 'Hey bro, up for a chat?'_

_Sam tapped back a clear 'yes' on his stomach, followed by: 'Tell me the plan.'_

_Dean held back a smirk. 'Know me too well.'_

_Sam managed a small grin. 'Was wishing I had one.'_

_Dean tapped back. 'Got a paperclip. Think three days, midday, best time, if you're up for it.'_

_Sam frowned. 'Two days. What if Raf attacks?'_

_'Then we leave first opp. Okay two days. Need Impala's location first, and route out …'_

There was a blurry face above him. Dean blinked owlishly trying to work out what the hell he was doing on the floor, and why the hell he felt dizzy, and why his jaw hurt, and where the hell - for that matter - he was in the first place.

The guy yanked Dean up by the front of his shirt. "A paperclip," he hissed, showing Dean the bent thing in his fingers.

Dean's head bounced on the tiles when the guy dropped him. Dean glared back at the man thinking that some people got unreasonably uptight over the littlest things. What the hell was the guy yelling at him about bent paperclips for? Maybe the guy was a mugger, that would explain why he felt like he'd just been hit by a truck and why he felt so disorientated and confused.

The guy moved over to the doorway and yelled: "Nathanial! Benjamin!"

Dean took in a few deep breaths. Those names rang a bell, he had flashes of a guy with a medical bag. He put a hand to his sore head and turned his head to the side and there was Sam, out cold and as white as the tiles he lay on.

Dean was over by his side in a moment, tapping at Sam's cold cheek. There was blood trickling from Sam's nose again, and bite marks, livid bruises and traces of blood were all over his body. And ... why the hell were his jeans open?

Dean frowned, sorting some fuzzy short term memories back together until they started making sense again. The escape plan; the tranquilizer darts; Sam trying to wake him up; the Vamps mauling Sam; Raf hitting him; trying to find Sam; the sound from the bathroom; Sam on the floor with Raf over him.

Dean did up the jeans and glared murderously at Raf. Yeah, it was all coming back now. Raf had done the mind meld thing on him, and yuck, kissed him on the mouth and all. Then he'd gotten _inside_ his head which was – a hell of a nightmare. It really was mind rape, and he was gonna have all sorts of violation issues to deal with down the track. Could feel himself wanting to run, escape, hide, scrub away the feel of Raf's touch on his crawling skin, even damn well cry. But right now … right now, Sam needed him.

Nathanial appeared in the doorway. He stared wide eyed at Sam and at Dean, and hurried over heading to Sam's side.

Dean had a flash recall of Sam jumping in between himself and a werewolf once years ago, although why exactly that memory came to mind now was, for the moment, beyond him. Dean went with his instincts and put himself between Nate and Sam.

Nathanial looked instantly remorseful and apologetic and backed off a step.

Raf stepped over and yanked Dean out of the way. "Check him," ordered Raf.

Nathanial shot Raf a wary glance and went down on his knees beside Sam and started an examination. "What happened?"

"Raf happened," spat Dean. "Right after the rest of you bloody happened."

Raf shook Dean hard by the arm.

Nathanial ducked his head and got on with the examination. "I need my medical bag," Nathanial felt down Sam's body. There's two maybe three cracked ribs here, and the wrist is definitely broken," Nate glanced up at Raf. "Did you blend with him?"

"Yes," said Raf, "I blended with them both and I was right about Samuel. It's not that my blending ability has strengthened; Samuel _is_ different. I get the same unclear imagery with Dean that I usually get with other blendings."

Nathanial touched Sam's forehead. "He's already feverish, I need him moved to the bed without damaging the ribs or the wrist. Moving him carefully is going to be a job for two."

Dean took a half step forward right away, but Raf pulled him back with a glare. "I'll do it. You get out of the way."

Dean yanked at his arm pulling free of Raf's grasp. "He's my broth ..."

"You lost any privileges you might have had, Dean. I didn't really need you along in the first place and if you're causing trouble, you just might not be worth keeping alive. Now, get yourself over to the spare bed before I decide to break some of your ribs."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	20. Chapter 20

Dean stood by the bed stubbornly and watched Nathanial's every move like a hawk. Raf had disappeared again once Sam had been safely moved, and Steven was back in the chair taking watch duty.

Nathanial only glanced at Dean the once, concentrating instead on the job of taking care of Sam. He set the wrist bone, then wrapped and plastered it. He cleaned and bandaged the numerous bites and put tape over the cracked ribs. He winced at the livid bruising coming up around the shoulder bite that Benjamin had made, and checked to see if the bone there was still sound. He checked Sam's eyes and then his head and swore.

"What is it?" asked Dean and Steven together at the same time.

Nathanial looked up. "He's got another lump on the back of his head, bigger than the last one." He reached up and patted at Sam's cheek trying to rouse him, but Sam wasn't coming around.

Dean frowned at Nate's expression. He'd been passive faced when he'd first started working on Sam but now there was a definite look of concern there. "Is he gonna be alright?"

Nathanial's eyes flicked over to him uncomfortably. "I .. don't know. I can't tell how bad the head wound is, but he's … showing signs of shock and …"

"And?" asked Dean anxiously.

Nathanial ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to set up an IV and start feeding him the drugs he needs right away. I want to get ahead of this before things get any worse."

Dean frowned looking at his brother's feverish face. "What's his temperature?"

Nathanial paused in his packing and looked over at Dean. "It's high."

Dean clenched his fists and fixed Nate with a glare. "Nate, I want to know what his temperature is."

Nathanial looked away uncomfortably. "It's 103.2."

There was absolute silence in the room for a few seconds. Down stairs somewhere, came the sound of a champagne cork popping and excited Vamps chatting and celebrating together.

"103?" asked Dean softly, staring at his brother in near panic.

"Nathanial, I can't remember if that's a bad temperature or not," murmured Steven sitting forward in his chair with a frown of concern.

Nathanial gathered his medical stuff together and nodded. "It's bad. I'll get the IV set up right away."

Dean sat by Sam while Nathanial worked. He brushed back Sammy's sweaty hair and pressed a damp cloth to it wiping away the beads of sweat while watching every move that Nathanial made.

Crystal stuck her head around the door, a bottle of champagne and a glass in her hands. She giggled and offered a glass to Steven and then her eyes fell on Sam, unconscious in the bed and covered with bandages. She choked on the giggle and she glanced over at Dean with a guilty expression. "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have … . I'll just ..." she disappeared.

Dean didn't even blink. His eyes were glued to Sam's face. Sam hadn't stirred at all. His cheeks were burning red with fever, and now he was breathing in little panting gasps.

Nathanial hurried away and came back with a collection of medication. "These are anti inflammatories, and these are for the fever and the pain," he said showing Dean the bottles. "I'm going to inject these directly into the IV feed."

Half an hour later Diane brought in some food and coffee. Dean ate his share mechanically not even aware really of what he was eating or drinking.

The next time Nate checked Sam's temperature, it was 104 degrees. Dean leaned back against the headboard feeling wrung out with tension and worry. He dipped a cloth back into a bowl of water, squeezed out the excess and wiped Sam's sweaty face down again. Dean bit his lip. He'd give anything now to get Sam out of this hell hole. Anything. He closed his eyes over the pounding headache that was no doubt a gift from Raf, and leaned back against the headboard. It was going to be one hell of a long day.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean awoke with the familiar nasty aftertaste of drugs in his mouth. He was lying on the spare bed, without any memory of having actually gone to bed. The last thing he remembered was sitting next to Sammy with a wash cloth. No way would he fall asleep when Sam was so hurt. He sat up abruptly, "What the hell?"

Benjamin was in the chair and looked over from the television. "Well, finally awake, I see. Did you enjoy your beauty sleep?" he asked a little smuggly.

"You drugged me again, didn't you."

Benjamin's grin was completely unrepentant. "Raf's orders. He wanted you moved to the other bed. Punishment for the paperclip, he said."

Dean frowned at that, not understanding how a bed change could be thought of as 'punishment'. "Sam. How's Sam?"

"Nathanial's only just left for bed. He spent the whole day and most of the night watching over your brother. Samuel still hasn't woken up yet."

Dean stood up unsteadily, "How long was I under this time?"

"About twenty seven hours worth," said Raf from the doorway. "Benjamin, go get some sleep. I'll take the rest of your watch."

Dean had to force himself to sit still at the sight of Raf, while every muscle, every nerve and instinct inside of him wanted to rip the bastard rapist to pieces with his bare hands. Dean took a deep breath and firmly pushed all of the turmoil to one side.

Benjamin flicked off the television and left without a word.

Raf went over to Sam's bed and made himself comfortable in the half of the bed that used to be Dean's.

Right away Dean hurried across to be with Sam but his chain pulled taut when he was still a good four feet from the bed. "Sonofabitch," said Dean softly. He understood about the 'punishment' now. They'd been separated. He could watch but he couldn't touch. He could see Sam but he couldn't soothe him while he was ill, and worst of all, he couldn't protect Sam from any of the damned Vamps.

Raf looked pointedly at the taut chain and deliberately brushed his hand over Sam's cheek. "The next time that you cause trouble, Dean, will be your last. I'm not above feeding you to my kin."

Dean took another deep breath clenching his fists so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms. He had to watch, while Raf pawed over his brother again. It was almost making him want to puke. And after experiencing first hand what this Vamp could do – man he wanted to get Sam out of here so bad. Sam was gonna freak out when he woke up.

He looks very young in his sleep doesn't he?" said Raf.

Dean felt an eyebrow rise. "Come again?"

"Young, vulnerable and – quite unwell. I had wanted to blend with him again."

"No," blurted Dean.

Raf's green eyes lifted to meet Dean's.

"You're killing him with this blend thing. He's not sleeping there, he's still bloody unconscious, thanks to what you did to him. I won't let you touch him."

Raf regarded Dean with amusement for a few moments and then his eyes drifted back to take in Sam's sleeping body. "The problem with blending is that one - lives the memory, the emotions and sensations. I find I'm strongly drawn to his exquisitely clear mind. It's as beautiful as his body is." He gazed down at Sam, stroking Sam's hair, his expression deep and thoughtful, "How ironic."

Dean knew that kind of look. It was possessive; acquisitive. The kind of lusty look a guy would give to a hot girl he wanted. Raf had a lot more on his mind than just using Sam for a ceremony. "You're not turning my brother," croaked Dean through a throat that had suddenly grown dry with fear.

Raf's smile was considerably colder when he looked up. "Why do the young never consider the merits of change. If I turned him, the Demons would no longer be a problem for Samuel. He'd be mine, and I _can_ protect him. I've encountered Demons before. He would be perfectly safe with me."

Dean's mouth dried. "Sam's not yours, he's mine. He's _my_ brother and he doesn't want anything to do with you."

"Really Dean. This decision has nothing to do with you," Raf's gaze chilled further, and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "In my opinion, your family lost the right to care for Samuel long ago. Imagine, a father dragging his children from one end of the country to the other in his mindless pursuit for revenge. How many scars do you and your brother bare? How many times have you both nearly died?" Raf leaned forward with his eyes glinting in repressed fury. "If your father were alive, I would kill him for treating you both as he did. No father … No father worth the title, _ever_ tells one son that he might need to kill the other. And those - his dying words? How pathetic."

Dean glared, his expression stony and his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know anything about anything."

Raf went on as if Dean hadn't spoken. "And you Dean Winchester. You have hardly turned out better. You _told_ your brother what your father's last words had been. You told him! Would you like to know the consequences of that?"

Raf didn't wait for Dean to answer. "Now he believes he is cursed, that he is damned, that the world would be a vastly improved place had he never been born, that he is directly responsible for the deaths of your mother and his fiance to be. Now he has strong doubts that his father ever loved him and he wonders if his own brother will kill him. I've seen inside him. There are no lies, no unspoken truths in there. I know how much agony he is in. Do you wonder why I wish to save him from what you have done to him?"

Raf's lip curled into a sneer. "You have hurt him more than anyone ever has by telling him your father's last words. You could so easily have kept them to yourself. And now? Now _you_ are the one dragging him from one end of the country to the other, whilst he contemplates _suicide_ to save _you_ from having to kill the monster he is convinced that he is. What right have you to call yourself his brother? Why should I _not_ turn him – if only to save him from the hell that you've turned his life into?

Dean was momentarily speechless. He watched Raf stroking his bother's hair, as his own body shuddered with pain from the words that he had just heard. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut by what Raf had said about what was in Sam's head. And he was almost reeling at the knowledge that Sam really was contemplating suicide. It was almost killing him to hear his worst nightmare confirmed. "I'm his brother ..."

Raf snorted. "How can a mere human protect him from demons! If he were mine ..."

Dean _had_ to ask, _had_ to challenge the Vamp. "Your's in what way? As just another Vamp in your so called family, or is it because your lusting after him?"

Raf's hand paused in Sam's hair for a long moment before he answered. "You're wrong to call it lust. There have been many that I thought I could love, many that might have been suitable, but only your brother has ever made me feel so strongly … ."

"That's not love. That's nothing like love. You've been a Vamp for so long you don't even know the meaning of the word anymore."

Raf's eyebrow rose. "And you know what love is? You with a trail of broken hearts across the whole country."

"I know a hell of a lot more about it than you do. I'm still human. I have a working heart in here and I _know_ how to feel_._" Dean reigned in his temper, he _had_ to convince Raf that he was wrong, but he couldn't afford to make Raf lose his temper and maybe take it out on Sam. Somehow he had to convince the creep to leave his brother alone. "Love is caring for someone more than for yourself. Love is sharing with them everything that you have. Love is concern for every hurt that you couldn't protect him from. Love is never deliberately hurting him. Love _doesn't_ mean feeding him to your Vampire family. Love _doesn't_ mean kidnapping and chaining him. Love _doesn't_ mean blending with him against his will, or threatening him, or terrifying him half to death on a daily bloody basis."

Raf's eyes were blazing with anger. "So love doesn't mean deliberately hurting him. What do you call what you did by telling him the words that you could so _easily_ have kept secret? Are you lying or are you simply a hypocrite?"

Dean tried to take a step forward, forgetting about the taut chain. "We're Hunters. We _have_ to be honest with each other. We have to trust each other _completely_ to do the job that we do. We've got to know each other so well that we can predict each others moves, so that we can almost read each others thoughts, and we can't do that and keep secrets from each other. In our job we have to keep our edge or we're dead. I didn't want to tell him. I _had_ to tell him."

Sammy murmured in his sleep. His legs kicking restlessly at the bedsheets until they were gone from his overly heated body.

Raf carded his hands through Sam's hair soothingly and Sam settled back into sleep with a contented sigh, turning his head into the hand. Raf's smile was almost tender.

Dean could have cursed. "He thinks it's me beside him," he said before Raf could get any ideas.

Raf looked up with a frown.

"You want to see what your brand of love did to him then just damn well take a look at the state of him."

Raf didn't look. Instead he fixed Dean with his cold green eyes. "Regardless of my motives you should consider that with you, Samuel is suicidal and hounded by Demons that you cannot protect him from. With me he would be safe, protected and cared for. He would have a home away from the life he hates. He could study again, learn to laugh again, be free of fear and pain. Eventually he would be content with me. Seriously Dean, which option offers more for Samuel?"

Crystal stepped into the room. "Oh Raf, I was expecting Benjamin to be on watch."

Raf stood up and straightened his clothes. "I've sent Benjamin to bed early, my dear. I'll leave you to it, Crystal. And you Dean, should think of your brothers welfare and happiness."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	21. Chapter 21

It was Sam's panicked yelp that woke Dean up out of the light sleep he'd fallen into. He sat up quickly on his bed to see Sam hanging face down, in mid air off the side of his bed. Raf had caught him around the waist before he fell to the floor.

"DEAN!" yelled Sam, he wriggled and squirmed trying to get out of the grip that Raf held him in.

"Calm down, Samuel" said Raf struggling not to slide off the bed on top of Sam. He sounding exasperated. "I'm not trying to hurt you. You're hooked up to an IV, and …"

"No! DEAN!" yelled Sam again, struggling harder.

Dean kicked back his covers and scrambled over. He was pulled up short and nearly fell, having forgotten that the chain length had been changed. He yanked at it in frustration, not caring if it cut painfully into his ankle. "Sam? Sammy. I'm right here, bro."

Sam reached out a hand toward him and yelped again as Raf hauled Sam back onto the bed beside him. Sam struggled frantically. He ripped out the needle stuck in his arm sending a spray of blood into Raf's startled face and across the bed. Sam struggled away from Raf while the Vamp was distracted by the blood spray, and moved as fast as his panicked body could move. He dived off the bed again and scrambled over to Dean panting in panicked gasps.

Dean caught him in his arms in a hug that felt so good that Dean could have held on for a solid week. He hadn't realized how hard it had been, to be separated forcefully from his brother, until now.

Sam was gulping in air, his eyes were huge. "He's in the …. I thought you were … . Why's _he _in the bed?"

Raf stood up beside the bed looking mildly annoyed, and wiped at the blood on his cheek with his hand. "Don't worry, Samuel. Your virtue is still intact. I wasn't _in_ the bed. I was taking Diane's turn at watch duty. Although ..."

"Why … ," Sam's expression was wild. He looked from Raf back to Dean and back again in confusion. "Dean, why the hell aren't you sleeping next to me?"

"Raf changed the sleeping arrangements after he found the paperclip." explained Dean. "But I've been in here the whole time. He hasn't done anything much."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. He swayed and stared at Dean and then back at Raf and heaved in another gasp of air as memories started flooding back. "He was … He's been in my _head,_ Dean," Sam's voice was on the edge of full blown hysteria. "I couldn't stop him, I don't know what he did. I don't ...."

"I know, I know," said Dean soothingly. "He's been inside my head too."

Sam froze for a second and stared at him with enormous brown eyes. Then he spun around and delivered a huge right hook to Raf's jaw.

Raf rolled with the punch and staggered a step or two. He straightened again, rubbing at his jaw, looking more surprised than actually hurt.

"You keep away from my brother," hissed Sam furiously. He glared murderously at Raf. "You touch him again and I swear I'll find a way to make sure you don't see another day."

Raf looked at Sam tolerantly, and then smiled, running an admiring eye over Sam's half naked body. "I admire your loyalty and devotion to your brother, Samuel. Those are indeed fine qualities to have --- in anyone. But remember, in the future I won't tolerate you attacking me or my kin without retribution."

Sam swayed unsteadily on his feet and staggered back into Dean's arms.

"Come here," said Dean. He locked his arms around Sam, frowning at the unfamiliar thinness of his brothers waist. He helped him over to his own bed and sat him down carefully, mindful of the cracked ribs. "It's okay, Sammy. I've been in the room the whole time. You've been unconscious for nearly five days."

"Five …, five days?" Sam stared at Dean incredulously.

"Nate cleaned your bite wounds but one of them still managed to get infected. And that, on top of what Raf did, made you pretty damned sick. How are you feeling, now?"

"Five _days_?" whispered Sam again. He lifted the arm with the plaster cast on it and looked at it with a frown, trying to remember how it had gotten hurt. Raf took a few steps closer and Sam's attention immediately shifted. He stiffened up and stood again with Dean at his side taking a defensive stance. He glared at Raf.

"You should go back to your own bed and get some sleep, Samuel." Raf eyed Sam's pale and sweaty face with a frown of concern. "You've been unwell. Dean will fill you in on on a few things that I've been considering regarding your future. I'll let Nathanial know that you're awake."

The moment that Raf left the room, Sam sagged. Dean, with his arm still wrapped protectively around his brother, helped him sit back onto the bed. He could feel Sam's body trembling, whether from being sick or from confronting Raf, he didn't know.

"He went into your head too?" asked Sam worriedly.

"Yeah, but I don't think it affects me as much as you," said Dean. "I didn't even pass out. Just felt a bit dazed afterwards."

"It's not only that," said Sam softly.

Dean looked away, knowing exactly what Sam meant. "We'll deal with it when we're out of here, Sam."

Sam grunted in acknowledgment and brushed his hair impatiently out of his eyes. "So, Raf got the paperclip."

Dean nodded. "Sorry, I … I can almost feel him pulling that memory apart. It was like … like having a leech in my head – all slimy and – _so_ not supposed to be there." Dean couldn't quite stop the shudder that went down his own body at the memory. "He looked in on me telling you about the paperclip in Morse code. That's why he moved me to this bed, so we can't use the code to communicate anymore."

Sam swore softly. It wasn't often that Dean stumbled over words. Raf's mind thing had hurt him a whole lot more than Dean would ever admit. He ran his good hand through his hair again. "I'm not dealing with it as well, Dean. I … think I'm gonna go nuts if he gets in my head again."

Dean squeezed his little brothers shoulders a little tighter. "You're already nuts, Sammy." Dean waited for a few seconds. But when Sam didn't complain, he knew that Sam wasn't anywhere near recovered yet. "We'll get out, Sam. We'll find another way. I'll take you to Bobby's and we'll chill for a good couple of months. Sort out the head stuff, sort out … other things. We'll be okay."

Sam shuddered and shook his head. "Dean, he was in my head and I passed out. I don't know _which_ memories he got into. I don't know ..." Sam bit his lip.

Dean looked at Sam's haunted face, and drew his brother in closer and just held him for a while.

Sam closed his eyes. "It's like I can't trust my own mind anymore. I don't know if I'll remember something and I'll even _know_ whether it's been changed or not. I won't know if I remember something – like … like kissing Jess – if he's _changed_ the memory or he's _shared_ it, or if he … ." Sam leaned back. "I don't even want to _try _to remember anything just in case … I can't do this anymore, Dean. And Raf's … I think he's interested in me. I think he wants to … to turn me."

Dean hugged his brother tighter rubbing soothing circles over his brothers back. "Yeah, he mentioned that. He seems to think you'd be a hell of a lot better off with him than with me. He said he could protect you from the Demons and you could live here like Nate does, maybe study again. He said you'd be safer …"

"No, no, no Dean," Sam sat bolt upright staring into Dean's face with huge terrified eyes. "You don't want me to be turned, do you? I don't want to be a Vamp. I don't want to live here. I _can't_. Raf wants … You don't know …"

Dean shook his head. He pulled the doona off of his bed and wrapped it around Sam's shuddering body. "It's alright, it's alright. You know I'll go with whatever you want to do, Sam. I don't want you to be a Vamp if you don't want to be one."

Sam's shoulders slumped as he let out a huge breath of relief and he was quiet for a while, enfolded in the warmth of the doona and the soothing comfort of his brothers arms. Sam realized that he wasn't thinking all to clearly. For a second or two there it had sounded like Dean wanted him to become a Vamp. "What did Raf say? What did he want you to tell me?"

Dean sighed, "That he really is thinking of turning you."

Sam shook his head, half in fear, half in bewilderment. "Can't he tell that I hate him?"

Dean stilled for a second, as realization hit him. "I don't think he's worried about how you feel about him right now," he said slowly. "Jeeez, Sammy, a Vampires loyalties change when they get turned. We've seen that happen before with that girl on our first Vamp hunt, remember?"

Sam frowned and stared into his brothers alarmed face.

"You'd be transferring your loyalities to _him_ and his kin if you got turned, Sam." Dean chewed at his lip as he sorted out the implications. "You'd remember that I was family, but you'd be ..." Dean bit his lip hard. "Hell, that's probably why he said he admired your loyalty and devotion just now. He knows those qualities will probably transfer to him since he's the head of the clan. I think he really does want to turn you, Sam. We just have to find a way to get out of here before …"

"You won't be getting out of here before anything, Dean," said Raf from the doorway. He stepped into the room followed closely by Nathanial. "And yes, you're right about the transfer of loyalties. Once you are turned Samuel, you won't care for your brother nearly as much as you care for me and my kin. Your love for your brother would become love for me instead. Your loyalty and devotion would become mine as well. Your brother would be much as we are to you now. An outsider, one that you remember, but different from yourself. Like Nathanial here. He remembers his family. He remembers loving them, even feels some attachment to them still. But at the end of the day, his love and loyalty for us is stronger."

Sam was shaking his head. "No, God no. I don't want to be a Vampire."

Raf let out an impatient sigh. "You're still not thinking, Samuel. I've seen inside your head. I know that you're terrified of what you might become because of the blood inside of you. It's clear that as a human you have no future at all, whether it's your brother that kills you, the Demons, or by your own hand. And yes, I know that you have decided to commit suicide. It's why I'm giving you another option, Samuel."

Sam flinched, and turned to glance at Dean.

"Nathanial will examine you," said Raf "I'd imagine you have a lot to discuss with your brother. You should put aside your prejudices and consider your options carefully."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	22. Chapter 22

Sam wouldn't go back to his bed. He sat back on Dean's bed and answered Nathanial's medical questions and tried not to flinch each time Nathanial touched him.

Sam was bracing himself for what was to come. Dean was gonna freak about the suicide thing. He was sort of amazed that Dean wasn't freaking already, but once he put his mind to it, he realized that Dean would want this sort of thing discussed in private. Maybe, if he was lucky, the Vamps wouldn't leave them alone long enough for a private moment to happen. God, what was he thinking? Yeah, that one was easy, he was thinking that he'd almost rather face a house full of Vamps than his furious brother. But then, Dean had his arm wrapped around his waist sort of comfortingly. It was nice, feeling his brothers arm wrapped around him like that. It made him realize how much his brother cared for him, and how long it had been since he and Dean had shared a brotherly hug. It made him realize how much distance had grown between them since Dean had told him about Dad's last words.

Sam flinched again as Nathanial's cold fingers brushed his shoulder. Nate was busy changing the dressing over a bite wound, and Sam looked at the Vamp surreptitiously. He remembered the girl Vamp with the pretty dark locks of hair back on that first hunt. She'd been a human, kidnapped by the Vamps that murdered her boyfriend before her eyes. But once she'd been turned, it was like those same Vamps were her family. It was like the kidnapping and the murder hadn't happened at all. It was like – like being turned had altered everything sane inside of her.

Sam shivered. Being turned wasn't just about the physical changes then. He wouldn't be himself if he got turned. He wouldn't know himself at all, and if being a Vamp was gonna let him turn a blind eye to Raf killing Dean after the ceremony, then he'd take being himself over being a Vamp any day. And as far as transferring his love and loyalty to Raf was concerned, well, hell would have to freeze over first. Sam bit at his lip. That's if he had any sort of a choice about being turned.

He winced as Nathanial shone a pen light into his left eye and then into the right one. Dean rubbed his side comfortingly but Sam couldn't relax his tense muscles. Somehow they had to get out of this hell hole. Somehow. But day by day, that was looking less and less likely. The Vamps had them locked down too well. If they both couldn't get out then Sam had to find a way to get Dean out of this place safely. Sam drew an unsteady breath, he toed the chain manacled to his foot. He could see maybe one chance for Dean, and it was making him nauseous just thinking about it.

If Raf was so keen on turning him then maybe he could buy a way out for Dean. Sam shivered again. It was a horrible option to consider. Really, he'd almost rather die than willingly put himself into the hands of that monster. His mind was a turmoil of mixed emotions - loathing and fear being the strongest ones. He didn't know how he was supposed to cope with having memories that were altered, damaged, shared … whatever, by Raf. He still couldn't bare to look inside of his own memories at all. How was he going to agree to become Raf's newest family member – and possibly mate – when he couldn't stand being in the same room with the Vamp who'd raped his mind and the mind of his brother? Sam shivered again and winced as Nathanial ran his fingers over his skull. Dean patted at his side comfortingly, like he'd done a thousand times before whenever Sam was hurting or sick or scared or just needing comfort from his big brother.

Yeah, thought Sam. He could do it for Dean. He'd keep that option open if they couldn't find a way out for the both of them. God, he'd pray they could both get out before then.

Dean kept his arm wrapped around Sam's waist. He could feel how strung out Sam was, and now that his brother was within reach again there was no way that he was going to let Sam out of range where he couldn't protect him. He'd sleep on the damn floor next to him if he had to, but the Vamps were _not_ separating them if he could help it.

Nathanial stood up and backed away from Sam when he was finished. "Well Sam, I think we did the right thing by getting the drugs into you as fast as we did. You're recovering very well from any damage that Raf might have done to you. You're going to need lots of rest to recover your strength and I'd like to keep you on your medication for another day or two, but otherwise, you seem to be doing fine."

"What about the infection?" asked Dean.

"That's just about cleared up. He's nearly finished the course of antibiotics I was feeding into the IV for him. He can take the last two days worth in tablet form if he prefers."

Sam nodded quietly, not looking up.

Nathanial picked up the empty sterile dressing wraps, and eyed his patient thoughtfully. "You're very pale, and you've lost an awful lot of weight, Sam. I think for the next meal or two we'll do some soft foods until your stomach gets used to having food in it again, but I want you to start eating solid meals again as soon as your stomach can handle it."

Sam looked up as Nathanial started packing away his things. "Nathanial ..."

Nathanial glanced over.

"Thanks, …. for not biting me that day, you know."

Nathanial grinned a little lopsidedly. "Yeah well, I've never been good at the Vampire stuff."

Dean smiled. "No, but you're probably the most human Vamp here. Thanks Nathanial."

Nathanial looked from one brother to the next. "Look, I'm on watch for the next three hours. So if you two …. um … want a little privacy to … to talk about … stuff, you can close the bathroom door or go out onto the balcony. I've got a new medical journal to read and I won't be lifting my head out of it for the rest of the day if I get any say about it."

Dean smiled gratefully. It was now or never. He needed to clear the air between him and Sam about a couple of things – before Sam decided to try diving head first off of a balcony again. "Balcony or bathroom?"

Sam glanced up. "Actually I'd like to get some more clothes on if I can."

Nathanial smacked at his own forehead. "I've been meaning to … , but since you had all those bandages …, and your arm … . It was just easier to leave your shirt off while you were unconscious Sam, I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head. "It's okay Nathanial, I understand. But I'm much better now, so could I at least get a shirt?"

Nathanial grabbed a flannel shirt out of the chest of drawers. He glanced at Sam's plastered arm and ripped the left sleeve open at the wrist before helping Sam into it. Then he pulled out a large thick bathrobe and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders. "Go back to bed if you feel dizzy or anything. Don't push it okay?"

"Thanks Nathanial," said Sam looking reluctantly over at his brother.

Dean shook his head. "This has got to be the first time ever that I've wanted to get into a chick flick moment and you've been the one who doesn't want one."

Sam followed Dean out onto the balcony. "Yeah, well I don't think we've ever had to have a chick flick moment about this sort of thing before."

Dean pulled the french doors closed over the chains and dropped into a chair. "I never thought I'd have to have this sort of a conversation either, Sam. And the fact that I have to have it at all, makes me so mad I could rip that Raf's head off bare handed."

Sam sat carefully into the chair next to Dean's, and pulled the bathrobe tighter around him, waiting for his brother to start with the yelling and the tirade that he was sure was about to come.

Dean pulled his chair closer to Sam's and took a deep breath. He paused then looking at his brother's pale and thinned out face. "This isn't easy," said Dean squirming around in the chair. He glanced through the french doors seeing Nate already into his magazine.

Sam huffed out a breath and then winced as his ribs protested. "So Raf told you I was thinking about offing myself."

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry Sammy. It's my fault ..."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "No Dean, you didn't put the demon blood in me ..."

"Neither did you, and you are not damned, or cursed, or responsible for Mom's death or Jess's death."

Sam blinked at him in astonishment, and then blinked again, with his mouth hanging open like a goldfish.

"Raf told me a lot about what you've been thinking about. About what I did to you by telling you about Dad's last words."

Sam let out a long slow breath, and looked away uncomfortably, "Sheeshk."

Dean leaned closer to Sam so that he could see Sam's face clearly. "I _had_ to tell you about Dad's last words. You know that don't you, even though I didn't want to tell you."

Sam nodded, not looking up from his lap. "We're a good team."

"We'd be a dead team, if I didn't tell you. If you started second guessing or doubting me."

"I know, Dean."

"I wish to God, Dad had kept his mouth shut."

Sam was silent for a long, long moment. "He had to warn you, Dean," he said softly.

Dean swore. "No he didn't, Sam. No he didn't. Half the reason why it took me so long to tell you is because Dad was _wrong_ to say that stuff. He was _so_ wrong, and I've been thinking it was that damned yellow eyed demon that put the words into his mouth in the first place, 'cause Dad knew …. Dad _knew_ I'd never be able to hurt you, Sammy. I could _never_ hurt you."

Sam looked up at his brother with eyes so full of pain, that they could have belonged to a corpse. "You're only guessing, Dean. What if the Demon didn't do anything? What if …, what if Dad _knew_ something?"

Dean shifted his chair and bent closer. "Then he didn't know you very well either, Sammy. He should have known that if there was a chance of you going dark side you'd be doing _exactly_ what you have been doing. You'd plan a way out, so that you wouldn't hurt anyone. You're like that Sammy. You'd rather see yourself hurt than anyone else. But suicide is _not_ the first answer, Sammy. Suicide is what you do when there _is_ no hope at all. It's a last resort thing, not the first step you take. What if it _was_ the Demon influencing Dad? Hell, what if Dad was just damned _wrong_? And even if he wasn't, you're a good person Sammy, one of the best people anywhere, and if anyone has a hope of beating the demon blood, it's you. With my help, of course."

Sam's eyes shifted and he glanced up at his brother momentarily. "You really think I'm a good person?" asked Sam softly with a touch of incredulity.

Dean nodded. "I practically raised you Sam. There's not much I don't know about you and believe me, I _know_ you're a good person, Sam. Hell, Pastor Jim's said that you're a good kid more times than I can count and he should know shouldn't he? You don't deserve all the crap that happened to you and it's definitely not your fault."

Sam looked away at that one.

Dean swatted his knee to get his attention back. "Who was it that gave you the Demon blood?"

"You know …" Sam sighed at Dean's stubborn expression. "The Yellow Eyed Demon."

"Yeah, _he_ did that, right before _he_ killed our Mom. There was nothing you could have done to prevent that Sam, just like there was nothing you could have done to save Jess. It's _not_ your fault."

Sam lifted his eyes, and looked into Dean's eyes. Dean could see that he hadn't lost that dead look yet. Sam wasn't sold on anything that Dean had said. "Sam, what do you think I would do if you ended yourself?"

Sam looked out over the balcony unseeingly and answered softly, "I figure you'd be a hell of a lot better off ..."

"I'd be a fruitcake, Sam. I _can't_ lose you too. I'd either go insane or I'd end myself. It'd be a two for the price of one sale on Winchester's the day you killed yourself."

Sam's body jolted as if he had been hit. "No!" said Sam earnestly, his eyes locking back onto Dean's anxiously. "Dean, you'd have everything to live for, you ..."

"Not without you, Sammy. You're the last of our family. _The_ last. My family is everything to me, Sammy, it always has been, and you _know_ that. If I failed you. If I didn't have you with me, if I didn't have any family left, then I'd be buying the next damned express ticket out of existence."

Sam kept looking into Dean's face, and Dean let him see that he was telling him the truth. "What ever comes, Sammy, we will fight it together. We are in it together. All the way, through thick or thin, come hell or high waters, in sickness and in health, and I don't care if it sounds like we're a married gay friggin couple. The point is we've only got each other left, and we are going to get out of this mess and every other damned mess that comes along, together."

Sam's eyes softened. He sat silently for the longest time, locked deeply in thought until finally, _finally_ he accepted and some light came back into his eyes. He nodded his head slowly. "In it together, Dean."

Dean nodded. It was like a brick had been pulled off of the back of his neck.

"And it's Sam. Not Sammy. Jerk," Sam gave him a tentative half smile.

Dean smiled back. "Bitch." He'd never been so happy to call anyone a 'bitch' before. Dean glanced back through the french doors at Nate, making sure that they still had some privacy. He put his hand on Sam's arm and started Morse code again. _"We've got to get out of here."_

Sam nodded and used Dean's hand to tap back: _"Has to be before the ceremony. If I survive it, Raf will turn me."_

Dean frowned, _"If you survive?"_

Sam nodded. _"Sounded that way."_

"_We need some fine wire or keys."_

"_Haven't seen either much."_

Dean nodded worriedly. These Vamps knew what they were doing, the only time keys came out was at shower time and they were very careful not to let Sam or Dean touch them. _ "No way to get the keys, they're too cautious. But Riya and Stevie use pens when on watch, maybe ..."_

Dean saw a shadow out of the corner of his eyes and changed the Morse code to a gentle rub on Sam's arm. "It'll be okay, Sam. We'll be okay."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS


	23. Chapter 23

Dean tossed and turned on the single bed, trying to get to sleep.

Crystal had changed the bed sheets that evening and normally fresh bedsheets were enough to send Dean into a deep sleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Especially soft quality sheets like these ones. But it was hard to sleep when he was so worried about Sam and the problem of getting out. Hard to sleep when the sun was up and his internal clock was telling him he should be out and about. Even harder, when he had all this energy that wasn't getting used up while he was stuck in this damned room on a damned dog leach. Dean sighed and rolled over, checking down at the floor where his brother lay half buried under the blankets and pillows he'd taken from the king size bed he was supposed to be sleeping on.

Sam's pale face was turned towards Dean. He was sleeping like a log with his mouth half open. He'd slept the first five days after the Vamps attack on Dean's bed with Dean sleeping on the floor. Now, at Sam's insistence, they were taking turns at the bed. Neither of them even suggested that Sam use the big king size bed again. And Dean had glared ferociously at any Vamp that tried to tell Sam that he should go and sleep there instead. The two of them were careful not to use Morse code again. Careful not to make the Vamps suspicious that they might be using it at all. Dean didn't want to give them any reasons to take Sammy out or his reach again.

Dean sat up on the single bed. Damn, he could use a beer or two. Or three. Yeah, he was really missing beer, and the Impala. It felt weird not having his baby around. It felt like a member of the family was missing.

Dean stretched and grunted with satisfaction when he felt no twinges or pain from his shoulder. Damn, it felt good to have the bolt wound all healed up now. He pushed aside the doona, gathered up the chain and got out of bed. He stepped carefully around Sam on the floor, and started pacing, trying to work some of his unspent energy out. He kicked at the chain on his foot and walked to the balcony. He turned, stepping over the blasted chain and paced back the twelve and a half steps until the chain tightened around his ankle.

He was beginning to get a little stir crazy. Okay - a lot stir crazy. He _hated_ being cooped up anywhere for more than a few days at a time – even when they were on the road between hunts. Now they were well into week four of being chained up like animals in a house full of Vamps – without beer!

Over in the chair, Riya was reading her journal, chewing on the end of a pen.

Dean eyed the pen with avarice. But he couldn't see Riya forgetting it or even putting it down. She was forever chewing at it or writing in that damned book of hers. She'd notice right away if it went missing.

She felt his eyes on her and glanced up. "Can't you sleep?"

Dean shook his head. "Too much energy. And my body just wont get used to this daylight sleep routine."

Riya smiled, not really paying much attention and looked down at her book again.

Dean tilted his head trying to read the books title, but there was no title to be seen. "A journal," he murmured, remembering.

"What?" said Riya.

"Nate mentioned something – when you were going to give us breakfast on the balcony that night. You said something about forgetting how it felt to be cold, and Nate told you to write about it in your journal."

Riya nodded. "Yeah, I remember." She waved the book at him. "This is my nineteenth journal. Most of us keep one. I write about Vampire stuff and things from when I was human – you know, so that I don't forget."

Dean frowned thinking about that, and thinking about how he could wrangle her pen off of her. "You forget?"

Riya glanced up again and pulled the pen out of her mouth. "Sure we do. If you don't feel the cold for thirty or forty years you're gonna forget what it feels like eventually. Sometimes, I read what I've written over the years and that's when I realize that becoming a Vampire changes everything over time. You gain a family the first day, but you lose another one. You can live for centuries but then at the same time your body is mostly dead and you have to drink blood. You gain all sorts of amazing abilities but then you lose little bits and pieces of your humanity until you can hardly remember your own name."

Dean tilted his head. "I guess I never really thought about it." He yawned and glanced over at the floor where Sam was busy rolling over, murmuring incoherently in his sleep.

Riya waited until Sam had settled and then she looked back at Dean. "You want to know what I miss the most?"

Dean glanced back at her.

"Taking a deep breath of sun warmed air and feeling it fill up my lungs. It makes you feel so alive and part of life, you know?"

Dean looked at her wistful little smile. It was weird. He kind of liked her, and Nate and some of the other Vampires, sometimes they were so – he'd nearly thought 'human', but he couldn't get passed that memory of them mauling Sam. That had definitely been bad freaky stuff. At the end of the day, Vampires were predators and Sam and other humans were the prey. They were on opposite sides in a mini war. He had to keep that in mind. Focus on getting Sam out of here. If he had to kill one of the Vamps to do it, then so be it – even if it meant killing someone that he liked. Vamps were tough creatures, he didn't think that anything less than a killing blow was going to work even if he was just trying to knock one of them out. Damn, he hated it when things got complicated.

Riya's head had ducked back into her journal again, and her pen was back in her mouth.

Dean turned around and paced back out to the balcony and back again. Twelve and a half paces one way, twelve and a half back. He was going to go nuts in this place. Being cooped up was slowly driving him completely loopy. Exercise was sort of helping, but he'd spent hours over the last two days walking around in circles stepping over his chain at the end of each circuit until the manacle had started chaffing. He'd done more situps and one armed pushups than he cared to remember and he was still feeling cooped up and bored out of his mind. He was beginning to want to throw things off of the balcony just so that something would frigging happen – and to help get rid of some of his stress and frustration.

Television was totally boring, especially since he didn't get to choose the channels. Which ever Vamp stuck on watch duty got the remote control, and the ultimate say over what was showing, and none of them seemed to have anything in the way of taste where it came to TV.

Dean had flipped through all of the magazines at least a dozen times, and he couldn't concentrate long enough to get through more than two or three chapters in any book. It was getting to the point where he was going to try chewing through the damned chains.

He rubbed at his forehead, feeling the creases that were beginning to be a permanent fixture. He'd been frowning almost every minute of every day. Either he was worried about Sam or worried about how the hell he was gonna get them out of this mess.

At least Sam was recovering. His headaches and vertigo were finally gone. The bite wounds had faded away to almost nothing and the bruises on Sam's body were mostly faded or gone altogether. But Sam's eating hadn't improved much. He was still picking more than eating; still losing weight. Dean knew there was no use nagging. Sam was way too strung out to have much of an appetite these days, and Dean wasn't going to push too hard. The last thing they needed was to get into any new arguments – not when they were finally okay with each other again; not when they were already stressed. Besides, the Vamps were nagging Sam enough about the eating thing to give anyone a headache.

One good thing was that Raf hadn't showed for nearly a week.

Dean sighed, finally feeling like he could maybe sleep a little. He tiptoed carefully around Sam and rolled himself back into the blankets on the bed. It'd be a lot easier to get to sleep if he had a beer or two, or three. He sighed again and shut his eyes against the sunlight in the room and started counting large foaming pint glasses of imaginary beer.

A pen rattled against teeth as it was momentarily pulled out. "Goodnight Dean," said Riya, softly.

"Morning," murmured Dean as he drifted off to sleep.

SNSNSNSNNSNSNSNSN

There was a rattle and a tug at the chain on Sam's foot. He came awake with a jolt on the floor beside Dean's bed.

Raf had come in and picked up a length of Sam's chain. He was speaking quietly to Diane who was sitting in the chair nervously nursing her tranquilizer gun.

Sam rolled over and tried to pretend that he was still asleep. He didn't really want to talk to Raf, but the elder Vamp stepped closer and pulled on the chain again making Sam wince as his foot was roughly yanked a second time.

Sam lifted his head and looked up. It was still late afternoon. Usually the house didn't stir for another two or three hours.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor Samuel, when there is a perfectly good bed over here?" asked Raf, tugging again at the chain in his hand. He was making no effort to keep from waking anyone else up.

Dean sat up in the bed. "Afternoon Raf, or whatever. What time is it anyway?"

Raf shot Dean an annoyed glare before returning his gaze to Sam.

Sam climbed to his feet. He felt safer on his feet whenever Raf was around. No – actually, he never felt safe when Raf was around, but it was better to be upright than in the more vulnerable position on the floor. It took a couple of seconds to shake the sleep from his mind and remember that Raf had asked him a question. "I prefer to sleep near my brother," said Sam.

Raf's lip curled with repressed anger. "You are sharing a bed chamber as it is. Is that not near enough?"

"Depends on who he wakes up next to," said Dean swinging his feet down onto the floor. "Or haven't you noticed that Sam hates waking up and finding you there hovering over him?"

Raf's glare intensified. "I came to ask if you had considered the option that I gave you, Samuel."

Sam sidled a little closer to Dean. He didn't like the anger he could feel radiating off of Raf. "I'm kind of tired, couldn't we talk about this in the evening?"

Raf gave the chain an impatient rattle. "We will discuss it now."

"Don't you ever sleep?" asked Dean.

The angry look that Raf shot Dean's way could only be described as blistering. Diane in the chair drew herself back a little, and wrapped a second hand around the tranquilizer gun to hold it steady. Her eyes flickered over to Dean, sending a silent warning.

"I would have thought you'd encourage your brother in this matter Dean," said Raf. "Considering that he doesn't have much of a future with you. You know as well as I do that being turned is really the best thing for Samuel."

Dean stood up and wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder. "We talked. But Sam doesn't want to be turned and I'll go with whatever ..."

Sam yelped as he was suddenly yanked out of Dean's arm and he fell backwards with a thump. The next second he was being dragged rapidly across the floor by the chain on his manacled foot. "Dean!" he yelled, scratching at the floor.

Dean scrambled after Sam but the bedding on the floor hindered his movements. He dived, and caught the sleeve of Sam's shirt. He felt it rip as Raf dragged Sam out of his reach.

Dean scrambled to his feet, tugging at his taut chain in frustration. "No! Raf damn it, please let him go!"

Raf pulled Sam up to his feet by the front of his shirt. "I can see that you haven't considered your position properly, so I'll discuss it with you myself. In private," said Raf with a cold humorless smile. He pulled at Sam's chain and broke it apart with his bare hands.

Sam delivered two rapid right hooks to Raf's face and body and then delivered a vicious roundhouse kick that Raf only just managed to catch and deflect. Sam stumbled back and crouched into a balanced fighting stance. He feinted to the right and then kicked at Raf again with his left leg. Raf stepped inside the move and caught Sam around his chest, locking Sam's arms and back against his body. Sam skidded on the floor as Raf started dragging him out of the room. "Let me go, leave me the hell alone. Dean!"

"He doesn't want anything to do with you Raf, just let him go!" yelled Dean, helplessly. He watched as Raf swung Sam over his shoulder and walked out of the room ignoring Sam's struggles and kicks. "Let him go! Sam! SAMMY!"

Diane huddled in the corner stared back at Dean with huge eyes. The tranquillizer gun in her hands shook violently as she aimed it at Dean.

"DEAN" yelled Sam from somewhere downstairs.

There was the sound of a heavy door slamming closed. And then silence.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

_This was a really tough chapter to write and the next one is gonna be ten times worse. Iv'e edited, rewritten and reworked this chapter until I practically see the thing in my sleep. So, good or not, here it is. Hope it's okay. Reviews are always loved_


	24. Chapter 24

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS**

The door slammed behind them. Raf turned the key in the lock and pulled the key out before he shifted Sam's struggling body off of his shoulder and lowered Sam back down onto the floor.

Sam immediately back pedaled, putting some distance between himself and Raf. His heart was beating frantically in his chest and he knew that the Vamp would hear that he was scared. "Look," he said with a voice husky with fear. "I told you, and Dean told you. I'm not interested in becoming a Vampire, what more do you want from me?"

Raf leaned against the door and rolled the key in his fingers wearing a strange lopsided smile. "I want to know exactly what you discussed, Samuel. I want to know that you're making a completely informed decision."

Sam backed another few steps away from the Vampire, and stumbled nearly tripping over the small length of broken chain. He glanced around, feeling frustrated and scared. God damn it, another bedroom. Why the hell couldn't they talk about things in a hallway or a kitchen or even the damned laundry. Dean would be getting frantic with worry now that they were separated. And Sam was getting worried himself about why exactly Raf needed 'privacy' and had gone as far as locking the door. Sam watched Raf warily. Damn it, this was _so_ not good. Especially as Raf seemed to be – not in anything like a good mood. Sam balanced himself carefully on the balls of his feet, feeling the shackle rub at his ankle. He'd have to be prepared for anything.

Raf shifted impatiently against the door.

"Look, I know we've got problems with the Demons on our tails," said Sam. "Dean explained that you think I'd be better off here as a Vampire, but _I_ don't want to be a Vamp. I love my brother and I want to sort out my own problems as a living, breathing human being. I ..."

Raf frowned at Sam, he pushed abruptly away from the door and stepped a few paces closer.

Sam jumped at the movement, forgetting what he'd been about to say.

"Is being a Vampire truly so terrifying? Do you know how many wonders you could experience by my side Samuel? I watched Michelangelo Buonarroti paint the Sistine Chapel, I saw Leonardo da Vinci invent amazing machines, I spoke with Joan of Arc. I watched Guttenberg print the first ever pages, watched the first aeroplane flight. I've met William Shakespeare, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Oscar Wilde, Kipling, Byron and dozens of others. I have seen empty fields transformed into vast cities. I have traveled to every country on this world and seen history and beauty that I would never have known existed had I not been a Vampire, and I'm offering it all to you, Samuel. How can you refuse?"

Raf was stepping steadily closer and Sam started backing away angling around so that he didn't get caught with no place to run; still keeping Raf at a constant safe distance. "Fine, I can see that being a Vamp has it's perks, but it's also got major draw backs, like fangs and having to drink blood and no heart beating in your chest. I don't want to have any part of it. Why won't you listen?"

For a second Raf was right in Sam's face, gripping Sam's shoulder crushingly. "Because, you intend to end your life!" spat Raf forcefully.

Sam stumbled backwards, but just as suddenly Raf was gone again, back where he had been a minute before. Sam blinked in confusion. He almost thought that he'd imagined Raf in his face except for the lingering ache left by Raf's fingers on his shoulder. Damn, the Vamp could move fast. He hadn't even seen Raf move. Sam glanced around the room looking for something to keep between himself and Raf. He started angling toward a sofa and coffee table, keeping an even closer watch on Raf.

"You intend to end your _life_, Samuel," said Raf again. "Should I not save it in the only manner that I'm able? Isn't that the duty of any intelligent being – to save life where it can be saved? Isn't that why you and your brother hunt?"

Sam stepped toward the coffee table trying not to let himself get backed into a corner. "Okay, I admit that … I was considering ending myself. Dean and I .... We talked about it and I know I can't go through with that anymore. I know I've … we've … Dean and I, we've got to sort this out another way."

Raf tossed the key into the air and snatched it back again. His head titled to the side as he considered Sam carefully. "You can't deny that you would be safer here with me. That, as you are, the likelihood of you surviving even the next five years is slim at best. Yet you could have _centuries_ with me. No demon could harm you under my care. You could study anything you liked, become an expert in a dozen different disciplines, see the world with me if you so chose. You would never want for anything."

Raf pulled off his black suede jacket and tossed it onto the small coffee table in front of him "I see such potential in you Samuel. I hate to see that go to waste. But you are so very young and the young are often frightened of change." Raf smiled indulgently running his eyes over Sam, and dropped the door key on top of his discarded jacket. "The young rarely know what is best for themselves."

"I'm a fully grown adult, damn it. I'm twenty three years old and I'm perfectly capable of thinking for myself," said Sam impatiently.

Raf shook his head and gave a small chuckle. "To me, you are merely a young boy, Samuel. And you are _still_ not using you're mind. The reason that you wanted to kill yourself was because of your fathers last words. You're afraid that you'll become a monster because of the tainted blood you have. You're afraid that Dean will need to kill you as your father ordered. Those things haven't changed, Samuel."

"Dean won't hurt me. He's my brother. He say's he won't hurt me and I trust him, and I've lived most of my life with this blood inside of me. I can deal with it." Sam glanced over at Raf's skeptical expression. "Look," said Sam firmly with a shake of his head. "You asked me to consider my options and I have, I've listened to what you've got to say and I still don't want to change my mind. I don't want to be turned, so can I go back to Dean now?"

Raf ran his eyes over Sam's frame, "You haven't convinced me that you're making the right decision Samuel, and I think that you're too afraid of the unknown to consider what I'm offering you properly."

Sam huffed out a breath in frustration. "You're not _listening_ to me. I _don't_ want to be turned. I _don't_ want to live here with you. I don't even _like_ you."

Raf stilled, his eyes glittered with a flash of anger. "From the first moments after you awoke at the apartment, I knew that you felt an attraction for me."

Sam's eyes snapped up to meet Raf's. Oh crap. "No, ahh _definitely_ no," said Sam trying to think back to those first moments in Raf's penthouse. " That was that allure thing that you Vamps have got going. It took me by surprise, that's all. I haven't felt anything since and ... I. It wasn't really … . I don't swing that way. I … I'm strictly into girls – human girls."

Raf smiled condescendingly, his stance changed subtly, sending the hairs on the back of Sam's neck up on end with a shiver.

Raf took a slow predatory step closer. "You've hardly lived long enough to learn or experience much of anything yet my young Samuel. And since your tainted blood has cost you the life of the only girl you wish to be intimate with, perhaps it's time for you to … broaden your horizons."

Suddenly Sam was crushed up in the corner of the room with Raf not an inch from his face. "Do you feel my allure now Samuel? Do you? And what if you were to put aside you inhibitions and indulge yourself. Do you know how incredible making love with one of our kind can be for a human?"

Sam pressed himself into the corner only to have Raf push inward against him grinding his hips against Sam's.

"Leave me the hell alone, Raf. Get _off_ me," spat Sam. " I don't want you touching me."

Raf ran his hand over Sam's cheek. "But I like you, Samuel," he ducked his head and kissed Sam's neck passionately before lifting his head and looking down into Sam's eyes. "I like you a great deal, and that brings me to the second reason for wanting privacy today. There are only two days until the ceremony, Samuel."

Sam was crushed so far into the corner that his good hand and legs were trapped and he could barely breathe. He gasped in a desperate breath of air, evading Raf's seeking mouth, and felt Raf suck at his throat instead. Sam twisted with all of his strength and wrenched his plastered hand free. He hit Raf as hard as he could with it on the side of his head, not caring that pain flared and rippled up his arm like fire.

Raf snarled in Sam's face and snatched at Sam's arm before he could hit out again. The plaster crumpled underneath his grip until Raf was crushing his wrist.

Sam howled in agony, seeing black dots swim into his vision as his wrist bones snapped again.

"Only two days, before I turn you, Samuel. I don't need your willing compliance. I'll make you into a Vampire one way or another. You'll like me better once you've been turned, Samuel."

Sam felt his knees sag as consciousness threatened to leave him. "No," he whispered desperately, fighting to stay conscious even as he felt his broken wrist bones grind against each other.

"You'll like me a great deal better when you're a Vampire, said Raf holding Sam in the corner with his own body. He brushed the hair out of Sam's face. "I'm certain that you'll make me a fine mate eventually too."

Sam shook his head, gasped out a desperate: "No ..."

"But for now, I want to feel what it's like to blend with you once again Samuel and I know exactly which memory of yours to use."

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**


	25. Chapter 25

**_Okay - this chapter comes with a WARNING for graphic violence and assault._**

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNNSN**

Raf dragged Sam over to the bed and dropped him onto it roughly. Right away, Sam twisted away and tried to scramble off, but Raf was too fast. Blindingly fast. In the blink of an eye, Raf had straddled Sam's hips and ripped Sam's shirt from his body.

Again agony ripped through Sam's wrist, as his shirt was torn off and his wrist was yanked hard with it. He yelled with the pain and fell back again gasping for breath, then he struck out with his good hand, going for Raf's chin.

Raf caught the blow in his fist before it connected. He looked down at Sam and unbuttoned his own shirt, without releasing Sam's fist, holding it effortlessly in place while Sam strained with all he had to reclaim it.

Sam bucked, twisted and turned trying to throw Raf off but Raf moved with him and used his speed and strength to keep from being unseated. "Iv'e wanted to do this for a long time now, Samuel but there were preparations to be made, certain rare ingredients for the ceremony to be sought. I had the timing checked and rechecked a dozen times."

"Get off of me!" yelled Sam furiously. "Get the f...."

Raf jerked Sam's body up for a split second. He twisted Sam's good arm, nearly dislocating it with the violence of the move and pushed it underneath Sam's body pinning it in place with his forearm. Then he swooped and locked his lips over Sam's, holding Sam's head still with the arm he was using to lock Sam's good arm beneath him. Sam screamed into the kiss, and hit out again with his broken arm, just once, before the pain nearly overwhelmed him. Sam tried to prepare himself for the mental onslaught but for now, strangely, the kiss was just a kiss.

Raf explored Sam's mouth tasting his lips and brushing his tongue over teeth and the roof of Sam's mouth, stroking over Sam's tongue with his own. Sam tried to bite but Raf had his fingers dug into Sam's cheeks holding his jaw open. Raf pulled back a little and smiled down at Sam with heated eyes. "Your lips are so alive and warm," he whispered. "Your skin feels so good against mine. The next time that we do this, your body will feel as cold as my own." His hand released Sam's jaw and moved to brush over Sam's lips instead.

Sam locked his mouth down the second Raf released his jaw. He twisted his head away and tried to throw Raf off again and again. "I don't want you touching me. Get off! Don't touch me!" gasped Sam.

Raf stroked Sam's hair completely unfazed by his victims struggles. He ran a hand sensuously down Sam's naked side, feeling each rib and muscle, and reveling in the warmth and softness of Sam's skin.

Sam was getting desperate. He couldn't get Raf off of him. And worse, Raf didn't even seem troubled by Sam's frantic struggles. He was far too strong. Too fast. And Sam knew he was going to lose. Knew Raf would do whatever he wanted to in the end and no-one was going to stop him.

Sam's jaw was caught again and his head dragged around to face Raf's. Sam's terrified eyes stared up into Raf's cold green eyes and Sam screamed, "DEAN!"

This time, when Raf kissed him, Sam knew it was different. Deeper and deeper went the kiss. Deeper, stronger and stranger until he could feel Raf's mind inside his own and the blending of his own essence into Raf's....

_Jess ran her fingers into Sam's hair and she pressed her forehead against his chest. A swirl of her breath curled out into the cold night air._

_Sam/Raf smiled gently. "I had a great time tonight, Jess. Maybe, maybe we can do that again sometime?"_

_She murmured agreement and wrapped her arm around his waist._

"_I'll see you in the morning then, Jess. Goodnight ..."_

_Jess curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him closer. "Sam?" _

_Sam/Raf looked down as she lifted her face. _

"_I want you."_

_Sam/Raf's heart skipped a beat as he looked deeply into her lovely eyes. And he saw something there in them, that had his heart skipping a couple more beats. Could it be? Did she feel the same way about him as he did about her? He almost didn't dare to believe it, after all she was – so gorgeous, so precious, she could have anyone that she wanted, and dreams didn't come true for Winchester's. "Are … are you sure?" Sam/Raf asked, preparing to have his heart shatter._

_Jess's lips were soft and sensual and so full of love, gentleness and desire. Sam/Raf moaned as heat flickered instantly through his body._

_She pulled him through her front door and kicked the door closed and then her hand was under his shirt and drifting softly over his skin, and her other hand was ..._

No, no, no. Hell NO! Sam tried to block the memory, tried to shut the precious memory away, but he simply didn't know how to shield it. One of his most precious memories of Jess and the first time that they'd made love and … oh, _God_ no. Raf was gonna rape him using that memory, he could see and feel the truth in Raf's mind, even as he felt Raf's hands mirroring Jess's from the memory…

_Jess's hands pushed back his hair as she lay naked against his chest and she caressed his face. "I think I'm in love with you, Samuel Winchester" she murmured. Her hands drifted over his naked hips and her lips nibbled gently at his lips, and Sam/Raf groaned with desire ..._

Sam pulled back again somehow, to find that Raf's hands were doing exactly what Jess's had …. "NO!" screamed Sam inside his mind, feeling his body unwillingly responding to the memory. He couldn't let it happen! It would be ruined. The memory of his first time with Jess. It would be destroyed and he _couldn't_ let it happen! He could feel Raf smile against Sam's mouth as he prepared to make the memory so strong that Sam couldn't do anything but relive it …

It was powerful. Desperate and furious. Instinctive. Sam lifted his broken hand and concentrated every thing he had and **pushed**. Raf was flung off of him, somersaulting off the bed and landing hard on the floor. Sam clambered off the bed, heaving in precious gulps of air. He locked his furious eyes onto Raf.

Raf looked just as astonished as he had done the first time Sam had thrown him with power. Astonished, angry and … afraid. But the next moment, Raf's face darkened with something that Sam recognized as determination to resume what he had been doing, he was on his feet and moving in an instant, but Sam was ready. Sam lifted his good hand and **pushed** Raf hard across the room and slammed right through the bedroom door.

Suddenly feeling drained of all strength, Sam slumped to his knees, panting as pain exploded through his head again. He lifted a shaking hand to his forehead and drew in a gasp that was half a sob. A blurry figure stepped through the shattered doorway, but Sam couldn't do anything as intense pain drove him into unconsciousness.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean watched helplessly as Raf scooped Sammy up and slung him over his shoulder. He couldn't reach Sammy, couldn't protect him and he _knew_ what Raf had in mind. There would be no reason for 'privacy' if Raf didn't have other things on his mind besides a chat.

"Let him go! Sam! SAMMY!" yelled Dean desperately.

Diane huddled in the corner of the chair and stared back at Dean with huge eyes. The tranquillizer gun in her hands shook violently as she aimed it at Dean.

"DEAN" yelled Sam from somewhere downstairs.

There was the sound of a heavy door slamming closed. And then silence.

"Oh God no," gasped Dean. " Please, please I'm begging you, Diane. Please go down and check on Sammy. Please make sure he's alright for me, he _needs_ someone to be there with him." He stood as close to the door as the chain would let him get but he couldn't see anything, had no idea where Raf had taken Sam.

Crystal appeared looking as if she'd just woken up, and quickly relieved Diane of the tranq gun. She looked from Dean to Diane. "What's going on? Where's Samuel?"

"Please Crystal, Raf took Sam downstairs ..." began Dean frantically.

"To his bedroom," added Diane in a shaken voice. "He said for me to stay here. He wants me to let everyone know that he's not to be disturbed."

"His _bedroom_!" Dean paled. "Crystal, _please_ ..."

There were more running footsteps, and the rest of the Vamps appeared tugging on dressing gowns or clothing.

"Nathanial! Please man, Raf took Sam downstairs. He's terrified…" began Dean again.

Nathanial's eyes widened. He spun and took two rapid steps towards the door.

Crystal held up her hand and stopped him. "Raf's taken Sam downstairs to his room. He's given orders, he doesn't want to be disturbed." She sat down on the arm of the chair beside Diane and started stroking her friends shoulder soothingly, looking anywhere but at Dean.

Diane was whimpering in the chair.

Nathanial had frozen in place at Crystal's words. His eyes turned to Dean's with anguish filling them, and then Dean knew. Dean knew that this was one of those Vamp things. None of them would break the orders of the leader of their pack. None of them could cross Raf. It was instinct or that screwed up loyalty thing or something else Vampish. But it was clear that they were gonna follow orders and leave Sam to Raf.

"Damn you all to hell!" yelled Dean. "You _can't_ leave Sam down there with Raf. Raf is going to _hurt_ him. I know he will. _Please, _I'm begging you!"

Steven turned sad eyes on him and left the room closely followed by Benjamin. For a good five minutes, Dean held on to hope that they would do something – even if it wasn't directly disobeying orders. He heard their footsteps going downstairs and waited with his breath held trying to hear what they would do. But there was nothing. Nothing! They were doing nothing!

Then he heard Sam scream. A scream of agony.

"Damn you all to hell!" Dean turned and followed his chain back to where it was anchored and started twisting and pulling frantically using every ounce of strength that he had. It only took him a few moments to know that there was no hope of getting the chain loose that way. He bent and started yanking and twisting at the shackle instead.

"DEAN!" Sam's scream was loud, terrified and desperate, and it sent a jolt of pain through Dean's body like an electric shock.

"GOD DAMN IT! ONE OF YOU HELP HIM!" screamed Dean. But the Vamps were all frozen in place. None of them moving except for Nathanial, who ran the wrong way up the hallway and appeared moments later with his medical bag in hand. He paused outside of the room peering over the rail to the ground floor.

Dean tugged and wrenched at the shackle desperately until his ankle was raw and bleeding and then tugged some more hoping that the blood would maybe make things slick enough for him to slip his foot out of the damned thing.

BOOM! Everyone in the room jumped at the sound of something large being destroyed.

Dean's heart was in his throat, but he didn't stop working on the shackle. That had sounded bad. He didn't need to see what had happened to know that someone had just taken major damage. And knowing how strong and how fast Raf was, it could only be Sammy getting the damage. Dean worked frantically at the shackle, with unshed tears beginning to burn his eyes, until his ankle and hands were wet with his blood.

The Vamps had frozen at the sound, looking at each other questioningly. Crystal rolled off the chair and was first out at the railing beside Nathanial. "Dear heaven!"

Right away, the rest of the Vamps left the room to see what Crystal was seeing. Moments later there was a clatter of running steps as the Vamps ran downstairs.

"SAM?" yelled Dean at the top of his voice. There was no answering reply to be heard. "SAM, ANSWER ME!" yelled Dean again, he wrenched at the shackle dragging it down. He twisted and turned his foot spreading the blood all around, then jammed his other foot down on the shackle trying to get it passed his heel. But shackles were made to prevent them from being removed without a key and Dean soon knew without a doubt that he wouldn't get it off. Still he kept trying, wrenching at his ankle desperately, thinking maybe he'd need to dislocate it somehow to get it out.

Dean was about to start yelling again when Raf appeared in the doorway, looking – flattened and disheveled. His jacket was gone, his shirt was completely open baring his upper body. His hair was half pulled out of the neat ponytail that he usually wore and there were slivers of wood in it.

"What the hell have you done to my brother?" demanded Dean, in a murderous voice.

Raf glanced at him. And Dean was shocked to see that Raf looked … unsettled, disturbed, even scared.

"Where the hell is my brother, you b ..." began Dean, and then he saw Sam. Steven came in carrying Sam gently in his arms. He glanced at the king sized bed but carried Sam passed it and put him down carefully onto Dean's bed.

Dean was beside his brother right away, scanning his body and getting madder by the second at what he saw.

Raf's voice was husky and unsteady. "Nathanial, take care of him," he said and then he was gone.

Nathanial's eyes were huge and he looked shell shocked. "Dean I need to examine him."

Dean looked from him to Sam for a second in confusion before he realized that Nathanial was again asking for permission to touch his brother.

Dean nodded his head. He could only imagine the kinds of damage that that explosive sound could have done to Sam. But he could see clearly that Raf had tried messing with his brother. His shirt was missing again and his body was covered in patterns of red marks that would all soon turn into livid bruises. His lips were red and swollen and there was what looked like a couple of hickeys on his throat. Dean saw long scratch marks going down Sam's abdomen and passed the waist band on his trousers and his breath caught in his throat. Oh God, no.

Nathanial ran hands down Sam's body quickly and carefully, but his hands paused over the scratch marks. He glanced anxiously Dean's way. "I need some privacy for Sam," said Nate. "Steven, please would you make up some plaster and get more bandages from the supply room."

Steven grunted his acknowledgment and shepherded the others out of the room. He shifted the chair and closed the door softly behind him.

Dean looked at the crumpled plaster on Sam's arm. It took him a moment to realize what Raf must have done to Sam to damage the plaster like that.

Nathanial started talking the moment the room was empty. "Dean, It wasn't Sam. The door, downstairs… Raf's bedroom door was blasted apart. Raf was on the floor. I _saw_ him come right through the door." said Nate with a touch of awe. "I don't understand how …"

Sam shifted on the bed, jerking his head to the side.

Dean bent down next to his brother. "Sam? Sammy? Open your eyes for me bro."

Sam moaned, but his eyes stayed closed.

Dean smoothed back Sam's hair from his face, and looked at his brother for a moment, seeing the hollowed, pale cheeks and the outlined ribs, the scratches and bruises and broken wrist. It went right against the grain to ask, but he was out of options and Sammy needed to get out. "This is getting old, Nate," said Dean brokenly. "Sam's wasting away here, he's unconscious half the time, he hardly talks or eats anymore and each time Raf gets near him, things get worse. Nathanial, please. I've got to get him out of here."

Nathanial looked at Dean sadly for just a few moments and Dean let go of the tiny amount of hope he'd held onto that maybe Nate would help them. It was that damned loyalty thing again. Vamps couldn't or wouldn't defy the leader of their packs for anything or anyone, no matter how they felt about things personally.

Sam moaned again, and blood started pouring from his nose.

Nathanial rolled Sam onto his side and fetched a hand towel from the bathroom for the blood. He bent beside Sam, and started talking animatedly – like he was uncomfortable with the way the conversation had been going. "Okay, the nose bleed is new. It could be a sign that Raf has blended with him again, or it could be something else. He's running a fever again so I'll restart the meds. There are new bruises coming up consistent with …" Nathanial bit his lip. "Um, the worst damage seems to be the arm. It's been broken again. I'll need to cut the rest of this old plaster away and reset the arm, and what the hell have you done to your ankle, Dean?"

Dean shook his head tiredly. "Nate, has Sam been … I need to know everything."

Nathanial shot him an anguished glance and then looked down at the scratches on Sam's abdomen. "There are signs that Raf may have ---, he might have - - - , that he could maybe have...."

Dean closed his eyes, "I get the picture, and I'm gonna tear Raf apart with my bare hands first chance I get.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**


	26. Chapter 26

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

Benjamin settled back in the chair again, pulling out a magazine from underneath the chair. He'd just finished carefully refastening Sam's chain to the shackle on his ankle, even though Sam was out to the world, and he'd removed the shackle from Dean's foot and refastened it around the other foot so that Nate could tend to the damage Dean had done to it.

Once Nate had finished replastering Sam's arm and treated Dean's cuts he had gone to talk to Raf. Nate wanted to know for sure about whether Raf had blended with Sam, before he started administering Sam's meds.

Dean wouldn't leave Sam's side. He washed Sam's face, and dabbed at the nose bleed, and murmured soothingly to him, just letting Sam know that he was there. Letting Sam know that he was safe again.

Dean thought about the nose bleed and what Nate had said about Raf 'flying' through the door. It didn't take a genius to work out what had happened. Raf had either tried blending again or had actually tried messing with Sam, but Sam had used those freaky new powers of his and thrown Raf around. "Way to go, Sammy," he murmured under his breath and dabbed at another trickle of blood from Sammy's nose. For once he wasn't gonna complain about Sam's freaky powers. Hell anything that got Sam out of a situation as bad as that was worth … appreciating … at least a little more than he had been.

Sammy's forehead creased in pain and his eyes fluttered open but they remained unfocussed like the room was spinning passed him.

"It's okay Sammy, I've got you, you're back upstairs and I swear I'm not letting you go again."

Sam's eyes were exhausted and filled with pain but the relief in them was huge. He reached out a hand and gripped Dean's hand. His eyes closed again and Dean thought for a second that maybe Sam had slipped back into unconsciousness. But Sam seemed to make a huge effort to open his eyes a second time. "Dean?" Sam's voice was weak and husky from screaming.

"Yeah, bro. I got you."

"Two days," rasped Sam's voice. "Cerem'y's --- two days --- then ---Raf'll turn me." Sam tried to focus on Dean through squinted eyes for a moment, making sure that he'd got the message out. Then his eyes closed and Sam was out again. He didn't let go of Dean's hand though.

Dean felt himself slump against the bed. Raf was gonna turn his baby brother into a Vampire and he only had two days to stop it. He closed his eyes. Damn.

There was air movement and Dean was on his feet in a second.

Raf stood by the king sized bed. He was all neat and tidy again. New shirt. Nice jacket. Neat hair. But he was looking Sammy over.

Dean took a step to the side blocking his view. "You are one slimy bastard, Raf." said Dean, feeling the rage burning in his gut.

Raf's eyes lifted to meet Dean's and Dean could see that there was still something there. Worry? Fear? Dean glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

"I want to know what it is? Where did he get such power?" asked Raf.

Dean lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "What, Sammy's powers? You didn't know? I thought you knew every damned thing about him seeing as you raped his mind about half a dozen times already."

Raf took an angry half step forward.

"Guess there's a perk or two to having demon blood put inside you after all," lied Dean. Oh yeah, Raf come a little bit closer, thought Dean, There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to wipe the floor with Raf's too perfect face. "You must have pissed him off big time to make him use his powers against you, you bastard."

Raf shifted nervously appearing to think about what Dean had said, and Dean eyed the Vamp over. Raf _wasn't_ his usual self. Maybe he'd taken damage going through the door. Dean frowned a little dismissing the idea. Raf was ...unsettled, on edge. Maybe enough for Dean to influence him. "Makes you think doesn't it," drawled Dean. "Sam's strong. He's stronger, smarter and more stubborn than anyone I've ever met. And with his powers; I wonder if he's gonna take over as leader of your little nest of Vamps after you turn him?"

Raf's face twitched minutely, but just enough so that Dean could see that the thought had crossed his mind too.

Dean looked Raf up and down disdainfully and then shook his head. "You know, I'm putting my money on Sam. What the hell will you do then, huh, Raf? I mean, I don't think you'd like having to play second fiddle after all those centuries of being head honcho. And to tell you the truth, I think Sammy's gonna make you pay big time for what you did to him."

Raf's lip curled and he glared at Dean. "Turning Samuel is an option, Dean. One I can choose to take or not as it suits me. But who's to say that Samuel will survive the Ceremony at all, hmm?" Raf smiled coldly.

"I don't think you can afford to kill him, Raf," said Dean casually even though his stomach wanted to climb up his throat. "After all, your ceremony might be missing something, you know how those ancient scrolls can be. What if you need someone with demon blood again? They're kind of rare you know. Hard to find."

Raf smiled coldly and stepped to the side so that he could see Sam. "My information is completely accurate. The ceremony only needs to be performed the once, Dean. If it doesn't work the first time then it never will. So, young Samuel isn't going to be anymore useful after the ceremony than you are." Raf titled his head a little, and he looked right into Dean's eyes. "That's if I decide not to turn him, of course. Your brother is quite ... irresistible, Dean. He's delectable, beautiful, intelligent. I love touching him, feeling his naked skin against mine, kissing his body, feeling ..."

"Shut your filthy mouth, you bastard!" choked Dean, taking a few steps forward before the chain pulled taut.

Raf smiled icily and then he was gone.

Dean slid back and sat on the floor by his brother. He picked up Sam's hand again and held it tightly in his own, and worried about what Raf had done to Sam down in his bedroom.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	27. Chapter 27

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN **

Sam shifted.

Dean woke with a jolt and lifted his head off of Sam's arm. He sat up blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. Sam had been unconscious for most of the day. He'd looked like he might wake up a couple of times when his body jolted or he moaned, but Sam hadn't opened his eyes again. Quickly Dean put a hand to Sam's forehead. He sighed with relief. Sam's fever wasn't any worse.

Things had gotten bad for Sammy. Gotten bad fast. His fever had spiked a lot faster this time, hitting 105.2 just twenty minutes after Raf had left, and staying around that temp for a good half hour. For a few minutes, Sam's body had started convulsing with the rapid high fever. Nate had injected an anticonvulsant that Dean knew as Thiopental into Sam, swearing imaginatively the whole time. Riya had brought a basin with ice water and some towels to help cool Sam down. Together, they had all wiped Sam's body down, laying cool towels on Sam and cleaning away the blood from his nose and the sweat that seemed to pour out of him. It took a while to get Sam's temperature down enough to make Nathanial happy.

After that, Sam had been unconscious. But Nate didn't hook up an IV this time. He injected meds directly into Sam's arm instead without explaining why. Dean guessed it was because the Ceremony was so close, although none of the Vamps actually said as much. Dean was disappointed, in fact, that even Nate wasn't dropping any hints or warnings about what was going on. He'd thought that Nathanial had connected with them more than any of the others. But Nate wasn't dropping hints, so Dean wasn't going to waste time on any of the Vamps anymore.

Dean glanced out of the french doors. It was about eleven in the morning now. The Vamps were still unusually busy – had been all night, too. He could hear their footsteps going in and out a lot and their voices from someplace outside. They were all getting ready for the Ceremony, and they were all on edge about it.

Sam's hand moved again and Dean glanced down just in time to see his brothers eyes flicker open.

"Hey Sammy," said Dean with a relieved grin. "How you doing?"

Sam didn't respond. He wasn't really looking at anything either. He was … just lying there.

Dean rubbed at Sam's arm. "Sam?" he asked worriedly. "Talk to me, bro."

But Sam wasn't moving, and he wasn't seeing anything even though his eyes were open.

Dean patted at his brother's cheek. "Sam?" Sam was like a limp doll. He didn't react to his name being called or to the patting at his cheek. Dean had watched Nate carefully whilst he administered the same meds that he'd been giving Sammy all along so he knew that Sam's catatonic state wasn't down to anything Nate had done. Dean chewed at his lip looking carefully at his brother, feeling fear for him crawling through every fiber of his body. The training that his father gave him took over automatically then, and he started quickly analyzing the situation, working on what could help fix the problem.

There were a couple of things that this could be. Top of the list was shock, especially with what Raf had done to Sammy in his bedroom downstairs. But then Raf had blended with Sammy so many times and each time Sam seemed to react worse than the time before. The 'brain damage' tag bounced around in Dean's head, but he wouldn't accept that one. Just … no. Then there was the high temperature that Sam had run. That could maybe take some getting over – although that sort of thing didn't tend to leave people catatonic did it? He wasn't too sure it could. But when you added that to a month of being kidnapped, chained up, drugged and all the other crap along with Sam's deteriorating health and weight loss, then … maybe. "Sammy, please, " Dean squeezed his brother's good hand. "You can't do this now. We haven't got time for this girlie stuff. Just … come back to me. Please, Sammy."

Sam didn't move, didn't even blink.

Dean leaned back and glanced over at Crystal in the chair. She had an iPod going with ear pieces jammed in and was busy sewing sequins onto something. She probably hadn't even noticed that Sammy was awake … catatonic … yet.

Dean shifted on the floor easing the ache in his legs and stroked his brothers arm. He thought about calling for Nate, but somehow he thought Sam could do with as few Vamps around him as possible for a while, and Dean had had enough of all the Vamps and their damned loyalty thing. Nate would be by soon enough to inject Sammy with more meds so in the meantime, Dean was gonna take care of Sammy by himself. It was his job after all, and he'd been damned lousy at it lately.

If Sam was in shock, then talking to Sam – drawing him out was the best thing to do. The _only_ thing he could do. So he talked softly for nearly an hour, about familiar things. He talked about things that they'd done when they were little, things that they would do once they got out of here. He talked about different hunts, about their mom, about friends and people they'd saved. He talked about places they had traveled to and about the Impala and even talked about Stanford - while Sam just stared at nothing.

Dean checked Sam's temperature again with the ear thermometer that Nate had left. "101.2, that's much better. Could have fried an egg on your forehead for a while there, Sammy. I wish you'd wake up and tell me to stop calling you 'Sammy', bro. I'm getting tired of talking to myself here."

There was a small twitch from Sam, and Dean swallowed down the despair that he had begun to feel and started talking again. "Actually I was gonna tell you, well I mean, … you know me, I'm not so good at actually saying these things sometimes but, well I was going to say that I've really loved this last year or so. Not the losing dad part, or Jess or any of the freaking bad stuff, but you and me. You know? You and me together. That's been … beyond awesome, bro. I've really loved having you with me, the brotherly stuff, hunting together, saving people, the kidding around, the 'jerk' and 'bitch' stuff. All of that. I guess … I missed you when you left for Stanford, bro. I really did."

Dean sighed and squeezed Sam's hand, he got up and settled himself beside Sam on the bed before he cramped up totally. "Bobby's gotta be going nuts with worry by now," said Dean. Was that a flicker of movement in Sam's eyes? Yeah, maybe. So talking about loved ones was doing something good. "You know if dad were still alive he'd have had Raf roasting over a slow fire by now. In pieces. Dad always liked to be thorough about these things." Dean rubbed at his brothers hand and wiped the damp towel over Sam's sweaty face. He reached out and brushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut Sammy," he murmured, "Guess that's kind of impossible here though." Dean re wet the towel. "Jess liked your hair long, but I kinda think she'd have liked you to be able to see out from under all of that."

Sam's hand twitched in his and his eyes flickered for a second.

Dean squeezed Sam's hand. "Remember Jess, Sammy? She'd hate to see you like this, bro. She'd hate to see what that bastard did to you."

There was another flicker from Sam's eyes and then there were tears leaking out of the side of Sam's eyes. Sam blinked.

"Sammy?"

"No, … not Jess …," murmured Sam so softly Dean wasn't sure that he'd spoken at all.

"Sam?"

Sam squeezed his hand, and his eyes blinked away tears and focused on him.

"Yes!" Dean smiled, "Come on Sammy, wakey, wakey."

Sam blinked again, and remembered … Raf. The bed. "Oh, God, Dean."

Dean drew his brother up into a hug. "Sammy, you're okay. Thank God, you're okay."

Sam had had a handle on the tears thing for a second there, but now, with memories pouring back and Dean holding him, the tears flowed down his cheeks and onto Dean's shirt. But Dean was there holding him … hugging him close ... It was something that he needed more than air at that moment. Something that he needed to keep from losing himself completely. The tears poured down his cheeks and Dean was like an anchor to his sanity. Hugging him, holding him together. Sam wrapped his arms around his brother tightly and squeezed his eyes shut. One day he'd explain it to Dean. How Dean had saved him with a hug. Sam could feel it inside him. The damage that Raf had done to him by trying to rape his mind and body – the resulting instinct to pull away and hide himself, to withdraw from everyone, to never risk being touched again - all cured with a hug from Dean. "He tried to rape me, Dean," whispered Sammy brokenly. "He went into my head and tried to use my memories of Jess to rape me."

Dean hugged him tighter for a while and then pulled back a little, hands locked on Sam's shoulders. "But he didn't, did he?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "I can't … I'm not sure. It hurt too much and … he was too strong … he was in my head … his hands were all over me and I couldn't … . I _pushed_ him."

"Right through the door, so I hear."

Sam blinked at him.

Dean helped ease Sammy up to lean against the wall. "You were out of it Sammy. Like, catatonic there for a good hour, your nose was bleeding badly, like it does after ..." Dean glanced over at Crystal. "You know." He used the towel to wipe away Sam's tears. "Scared me half to death."

"Cata …," Sam winced and rubbed at his forehead.

"Headache?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Nate injected you with pain meds a while ago. I thought he'd be back to give you more by now, but they're all pretty busy setting things up."

Sam flinched. "The Ceremony. It's in two days!"

"Nuh-uh, you've been out for about one of those Sammy. Ceremony's tonight, but I think I've got Raf rethinking about turning you. Helped that you pushed him through the door."

Sam wasn't paying attention. He was back remembering when Raf had told him about the Ceremony. Back on the bed with Raf as he started pulling apart his memory of Jess. Back with Raf touching him, and kissing him and … "Oh … God."

Dean knew by Sam's expression what he was remembering. Sam was staring at nothing again with a look of horror and loathing on his face. He gripped at Sam's arm, "Snap out of it Sam!"

Sam blinked and refocused on his brother.

"I was losing you again," said Dean anxiously. "I could see it, you were remembering what that bastard did to you."

Sam sat back and took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sorry. My head's all ... scrambled. I want to … to _know, _you know? I need to remember if he _did_ things … . But then again … " Sam took a deep breath and shuddered.

"He didn't have you down there that long Sammy, I don't think he could have done much," said Dean, rubbing his brothers shoulders. "If he'd been in your head for a long time then I think you would have had a worse reaction than you did. You'd have been unconscious a lot longer."

Sam thought about it, rubbed at his forehead and thought hard trying to sort out the mess in his head. "We talked. He was trying to convince me that being turned was a good thing. I was worried 'cause … 'cause he locked the door, so I was keeping my distance … trying not to get cornered."

Dean rubbed his brothers shoulders and listened knowing that this was gonna be hard for Sam.

"He said he'd met lots of people, Da Vinci and Vivaldi and he tried to get me interested in becoming a Vamp, tried to convince me he was worried about me and the Demons, but I could feel he wasn't genuine. We must have talked for twenty minutes before I told him I didn't like him and then … then he got mean."

Dean stiffened and made an effort to keep rubbing Sam's shoulders. "He got mean?"

"Pinned me in the corner, his hands were all over, he tried to ..." Sam's eyes opened wide in panic and his breathing picked up speed.

"Shh, shhh. None of it was your fault, Sam. None of it, you hear me?""

Sam took a deep steadying breath, but his face had gone bloodless. "He wanted to have sex with me … Oh God, he said once he turned me I'd like him a lot better, I tried to fight him, Dean. I tried ..." Sam was panting hard, suddenly it was hard to breath properly.

"It's okay, you're safe now. That was all in the past, now you're just remembering. Take a deep breath Sammy before you start hyperventilating. Take it slow, you don't have to remember all of this right now."

"Yeah I do. I _need_ to remember, Dean. I've got to _know, _or I won't be able to face myself in the mirror again. I won't be able to remember Jess without ..."

Nathanial walked in pushing the food trolley. "Hey, Sam, I'm glad to see you up and about. I've got your meds and some lunch for you both. Sorry it's late but ..."

"But - you've got lots to get ready. You know, for the Ceremony tonight," finished Dean sarcastically.

Nathanial's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Who told …?"

"Raf did," said Dean, "Thanks for the heads up and all."

Nathanial's teeth clicked shut hard. "Sorry, Raf's orders you see. I _can't_ go against his direct orders."

Dean turned away not really wanting to listen.

"Um, how's the headache Sam?"

Sam shook his head slightly in way of an answer.

"Ibuprofen for the headache," said Nate offering Sam a couple of tablets in a blister pack and a bottle of water. "I'm not going to give you anything more today," he said softly. "If you surv …, if you're still … ." Nathanial shut his eyes for a few seconds, struggling for words. "I've packed your car with all your things and there's instructions and a five day supply of all the meds you might need in a first aid kit, inside Sam's duffel bag. If … things are okay tomorrow. If …if you get out, that is ... then the keys are in the ignition, and there's a remote on the dash to open the gates at the end of the property."

Dean snorted. "Nate, you know Raf better than we do. Do you seriously think things are gonna be 'okay' tomorrow?"

Nathanial looked at Dean helplessly for a second. "Here," he said pulling out a tray laden with food. "Sam needs fluids and food, and you Dean," he pulled out another tray and handed it across along with an envelope. "I can't tell you much about the Ceremony, but … if I don't make it, and … and you do. I hope you'll be kind enough to drop this letter in a post box somewhere for me. It's for my parents."

Dean exchanged a glance with Sam and turned to frown at the letter. "What, Nate? You think you might actually _die_ if you take part in this ceremony?"

Nate chuckled a little, his voice laden with a strong streak of fear. "Who knows? I sure as hell don't. All I know is this is huge and I'm terrified. If I do make it, you won't have to post the letter, hell you can read it yourselves then if you like." Nate straightened up slowly. "I just want to say, it's been nice knowing you both, and I wish … I wish things could have been different."

Dean and Sam exchanged another glance.

"You two should eat," said Nate looking anywhere but at the brothers. "They're going to collect you for the Ceremony soon."

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**


	28. Chapter 28

Sam couldn't manage much in the way of food. Trying to chew when his head was pounding and his stomach was rolling – well – not gonna happen. Besides, he wasn't really hungry these days, hadn't had anything in the way of an appetite for so long that now food was just - stuff he had to put in so that Dean wouldn't get worried. Sam sipped at his water and watched Dean pick at the pie on his plate. It was weird. The Vamps were serving up pie to Dean almost everyday. Crystal had been the one to notice, he thought, that Dean loved pie. So without anything being said, there had been pecan pie, apple pie, four berry pie, rhubarb pie, cherry pie – every kind of pie. Sort of like, Crystal's way of showing she was sorry for what was happening to them.

"You're not eating," said Dean putting aside his tray.

"Neither are you," said Sam a tad defensively.

"Yeah well, probably gonna die tonight and all."

"Don't, Dean."

"What?" Dean lifted his eyebrows.

"It's not you're fault. The Vamps have had us chained up and under 24/7 surveillance the whole time. They out number us, they're smart, they've seen every trick there is and then some. They're stronger, faster, and aren't afraid to use tranq guns. We didn't have a chance."

Dean didn't say anything. But Sam could see his jaw muscles clenching. Dean wasn't buying it. "You know, when I was a kid, I really did think you and dad had super powers," Sam scooped the hair off his forehead and pushed it impatiently out of the way. "Wasn't hard to think that way. I mean, I watched the superheroes on TV battling monsters and my dad and my big brother were doing the exact same thing. You even had secret identities."

Dean gave a half chuckle, remembering fondly. "I remember you checking dads belt when you were about six. You said dad must have been better than Batman 'cause he didn't have to use a utility belt. Dad's eyes got so wide, I thought they'd pop out of his head."

Sam rubbed at his aching head. "Point is, you're human, Dean. You're not a superhero. You fight against things that are so strong, so fast, so frigging weird … I don't think any Hunter's gonna live to a ripe old age. Even the best ones die before their time."

"Like dad."

Sam nodded wearily, feeling the twinge of loss through his body. "Like dad."

Dean was silent for a minute. "It's 'we', Sam."

Sam had closed his eyes and was leaning back against the wall. "Huh?"

"You said: '_you_ are human' and '_you_ fight frigging weird things'. You do it too Sammy. And, by God you're as human as I am."

Sam drew in a breath of air, and didn't say anything. He avoided his brother's gaze and leaned back closing his eyes again. Damn, he must be more tired than he had thought to have let that one slip passed. Too tired to argue with his brother at all. Too tired of Vamps and Demons. Too damn tired of all of this crap.

The _fact_ was, he had demon blood in his veins. It had cost them their mom and dad and Jess and tonight it would cost them their own lives too. But if Raf still wanted him. If Sam could buy Dean his life by offering himself up as a willing mate for Raf, then he'd do it in a heartbeat. He had to make something good come out of it all. If he offered himself up to Raf, at least one of the Winchester family would survive the damned demon blood in his veins. Sam's head pounded harder and he had to fight not to whimper. He popped the pain capsules Nate had given him out of the blister pack and put them into his mouth.

Dean pushed his coffee into Sam's hands. "Wash it down with this. At least it's got some sugar in it."

Sam glanced over at his brother, "You sure?"

Dean grinned. "You haven't had a cup of coffee in weeks, you must be dying for it by now, forgive the pun."

Sam took a long gulp of the heavenly stuff. It was still hot, and oh _so_ good. "Thanks."

Dean gave a half shake of his head, and straightened out his legs. The chain rattled and he flicked it out of the way with his other foot. "Just don't tell Nate I gave it to you."

Sam sipped at the coffee. "Dean … If there's a chance for you to get out when they move us, take it, don't come for me."

Dean's head snapped round and he looked at his brother, with that 'you have _got_ to be kidding' look.

"If you get a chance then go for it. Run. Take the Impala and get Bobby, and some of his hunter friends down here."

"What about ..."

"Between the vertigo and the pain, I don't think I could run five steps. You won't have a chance if you try to get me out with you. You'll need to move as fast as you can to beat all of those Vamps, you _know_ that."

"Sammy, Raf has plans to _turn_ you. I ..."

Sam shook his head. "Raf has probably changed his mind – you told me yourself. He won't risk me taking over his clan. He can't do anything more to me than he's already done. I'll wait for you, Dean. You know it, and I know it, our one and only chance is for you to go for help by yourself. I'm not gonna be able to make it. Hell, I can create a diversion for you and improve your chances."

Dean's forehead tightened, and he shook his head. "Doesn't feel right, Sammy."

Sam groaned with the pain in his head and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "Don't be stubborn about this Dean, please. It's our only chance, and you know it. Tell me you'll take it. Promise me."

Dean looked at his brother, drinking in his pale face, his earnest, almost desperate eyes. He nodded slowly, but each word was torture to say. "If there's a chance, I promise, I'll take it, and I'll bring back help as fast as I can."

Sam let out a huge sigh of relief and the tension on his face relaxed a little. He smiled at his brother. "Thanks," he said and finished the coffee.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam was dozing propped up against the wall with his head on Dean's shoulder when they came. Dean heard them coming up the stairs and woke his brother with a soft nudge to his shoulder.

Sam blinked open sleepy eyes.

"The sun's setting. They're coming."

Raf stepped into the room first, spinning a set of keys between his fingers. Then the other Vamps came in and soon it was all of the Vamps in the room. Every single one of them.

With a rattle of chains, Dean stood up in front of Sam, glaring at the Vamps. But there was no use saying anything. He couldn't sway any of them to grow a heart and a conscience and help them out. The Vamps would do as Raf ordered them to – end of story. Didn't mean he had to like it. Didn't mean he didn't feel helpless, or furious, or terrified or – a little betrayed by some of them.

Nate was looking anywhere but at them. His jaw was clenched tightly and anyone could see that this was not where he wanted to be.

"Good Evening, Dean, Samuel!" said Raf with an insincere smile. "It's a lovely night for a Ceremony, don't you think?" Raf moved over and unbolted Dean's chain first and handed the end of it to Benjamin who clenched it tightly and rolled up some of the slack of it around his fist.

Sam climbed unsteadily to his feet. He looked around at the faces of the Vamps before him but none of them would look at him. None except for Raf – who's smile stretched a little as he stared for a long moment at Sam with a contemplative gleam in his eyes.

Raf turned and unbolted Sam's chain winding it around his own fist. "Come along then, down to the arts room. We've got everything ready."

There was a tug on Sam's chain as Raf started leading him out. Sam stumbled a little, and Dean was quick to wrap his arm around his brother supportively.

It was wonderful, stepping out of the room. Dean hadn't realized just how cooped up he had been feeling until this moment, but he couldn't dwell on it for long. He had to concentrate on getting the rhythm of steps right. They made their way fairly slowly down the stairs trying to time their footsteps with Raf and Benjamin's so that they weren't yanked off of their feet.

Sam pressed his hand into Dean's and tapped out a quick message in code: '_When I cough break __right.'_

Dean waited so long to acknowledge the plan that Sam started taping out the message again. It still felt wrong. Still went against everything inside of Dean, but there wasn't going to be another chance. Dean pressed his fingers into Sammy's waist and taped back: _'okay'_.

There were too many Vamps behind them so Sam made a staggering move until Nathanial came to add his help, wrapping another arm around Sam.

Sam looked around and frowned as they started walking across the grounds. They were heading away from the garages – further away from the Impala.

Dean shared a worried glance with him. Dean turned his head awkwardly to look back at the Vamps behind them. "So Crystal, what's this 'arts room' all about?"

Crystal and Riya sped up obligingly and started walking a little ahead of them. Riya answered the question. "Raf built it for Diane about fifty years ago. She's a musician you know, and a damned good one too."

"Oh? What does she play?"

"Piano is her favorite. Then there's guitar, cello, violin, clarinet, sax, flute, and a half dozen others. She writes music too when she's in the mood."

Crystal nodded. "It used to be just the music room but Riya likes to paint so it became the arts room a while back."

They rounded the house and Dean knew that Sam would give the signal soon. They were making their way down a narrow path with stepping stones between two rows of hedges, the perfect place for an escape attempt.

Sam coughed and then staggered towards Nathanial and Riya, taking them both down. He rolled and snatched up Dean's chain at the same time as Dean did. Together they yanked hard. Ahead of them Benjamin's startled yelp and flailing arms showed that he had been pulled right off his feet, the chain pulled taut effectively tripped Raf and Diane.

Dean hauled in his chain, spun and used a shoulder to knock Riya back into Nathanial and Crystal again, just as Riya's hands reached out towards him. Then he started running as fast as he could.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN


	29. Chapter 29

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

Dean's legs pumped hard as he tore passed the front of the house, trying to keep from tripping over the length of chain he hadn't managed to scoop up. He risked a glance over his shoulder just before he whipped around the corner of the house underneath the balcony to the room that had become their prison for a month. Riya, Steven and Crystal were giving chase, but they were far enough behind him that Dean thought he had a good chance. Sam must have tripped them all up again to give him that good a head start. Still Vampires were damned fast and Dean put on every ounce of speed that he could, especially when he caught sight of his beloved Impala straight ahead of him.

Damn, but he was getting out of breath. One month cooped up had really messed with his fitness levels. Run now - breath later, thought Dean. He had forty feet to go when he spotted Benjamin coming at him like a bullet from the other side of the house. Dean grimaced and gave it everything he had while preparing to swing the chain at Benjamin.

Just eight feet from the Impala and with the chain swinging away from him, Benjamin dove at him at full speed like a football tackler. Dean was carried sideways a good ten feet by the ferocity of the impact, and landed hard on his shoulder. Pain stabbed through him, but Dean was so close. He rolled with the tackle and punched Benjamin hard in the face with his chain wrapped hand. Benjamin snarled at him, trying to push him down and to roll on top of him. Dean knew he couldn't let him get the upper hand. Vamps were too strong, too fast, but Benjamin wasn't an experienced wrestler. Dean used his leg to hook around Benjamin's and throw him off balance, then he swung the chain hitting Benjamin hard across the back of his head. Benjamin slumped to the ground, momentarily stunned.

Dean rolled to his feet seeing the other Vamps only forty feet away. He ran and tore open the door to the Impala,. He had his hand on the ignition key before he had finished falling into the seat. He turned his baby over and she roared to life. He was reaching for the gears when Benjamin's hand reached in and snagged him by the front of his shirt. A massive punch into Dean's ribs and two vicious slams of his head into the steering wheel and Dean was gone.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam kept looking over his shoulder to where Dean had gone, even as Raf dragged him roughly by the front of his shirt towards a large building.

Nathanial pulled open a door and stepped aside so that Raf could pull Sam inside.

Sam struggled then - just for the sake of it - knowing that he had virtually no chance. He lashed out with his chained leg with the hope that he could catch Raf unawares or maybe trip him again.

"That is quite enough of that!" hissed Raf.

An unseen blow caught Sam just above his ear. His head snapped back and he sagged, stunned and seeing stars, and felt himself being lifted up into cold arms. By the time he came back to himself he was being tied with rope to a bulky wooden table with his hands above his head and his feet stretching down to each of the table legs. He lashed out again, panicked, and wrenched his hand free but Raf snatched his plastered hand and slammed it down ferociously onto the table cracking a piece of the plaster off. "Nuhhn," gasped Sam and froze.

Nathanial winced in sympathy at the other end of the table as he tied Sam's left ankle down. Raf peered down at Sam. "Plaster casts are very fragile aren't they? Just like your bones." His eyes narrowed a little, "Learn your lesson, Samuel. If you fight me, you _will_ pay."

Sam winced as Raf tied off his wrists feeling the rope cut into the skin. Sam lifted his head. The room they were in was large enough to comfortably fit ten cars into, but it wasn't anything like a garage. The ceiling rose twelve feet up to a small second level with a telescope on it. The large dome like ceiling directly above him had been opened so that the stars and rising moon could be seen. Along the wood paneled walls were some of Riya's watercolor paintings interspersed with softly glowing wall lights. Pushed into a corner was a second telescope, an easel and a collection of carefully encased musical instruments. There was a bar with stools, a pair of comfortable looking sofas and a paint blotched old wooden chair with handcuffs and bits of cloth and rope on it. Everything seemed to have been pushed to the side to make way for the table that Sam lay on, a large rug, and a second table laden with large drinking glasses, some ceramic jugs and a wicked looking knife.

Nathanial tugged Sam's shirt free of his jeans and quickly unbuttoned it, pushing the shirt aside to lay Sam's chest bare. He wouldn't look Sam in the face. His jaw muscles were clenched tightly together and he looked scared.

The door opened again and Sam craned his neck around to see. Steven was walking in backwards and was soon followed by Benjamin and the others. It took a moment before Sam realized that Benjamin and Steven were carrying his brother in. Sam struggled against the ropes, twisting around on his hip trying to see. "No, oh God no. Dean? DEAN?"

"Relax Samuel," said Riya. "He's just unconscious. Some of us were a little more forceful than was necessary," and she threw a reproachful glance Benjamin's way.

Raf wandered over and pulled Dean's unconscious face upward by Dean's hair. "Well done," he said. "Secure him to a chair and then we can begin."

Benjamin pulled the wooden chair forward and Steven lowered Dean carefully into it. Benjamin slipped handcuffs onto Dean's wrists behind the chair. Dean's chin lay against his chest and he stirred a little, moaning. This time it was Benjamin who pulled Dean's head up by his hair. Sam saw a red stripe across his brothers forehead and a trickle of blood trailing over Dean's face. "Dean?" he called again.

Raf turned and was by his side in a flash of speed. "You will be silent now, Samuel or I shall have to gag you."

Sam shook his head. "You said you'd let Dean go. When we were down in the sitting room that day," said Sam desperately. "You said you would let Dean go!"

Raf lifted a hand and brushed hair out of Sam's face. He bent closer looking Sam right in the eyes. "I lied, Samuel."

Sam could feel his heart skip a few beats then. He was caught by Raf's green eyes – like prey before a snake - he couldn't even blink. Sam licked his lips. The words were hard to say, almost sticking in his throat. "What if ..., what if I stayed and let you turn me?"

Raf smiled and traced Sam's lower lip tenderly with his finger, and then trailed it down to trace a line down his throat towards his navel. "I told you," he said softly. "I don't need your consent, Samuel. I _will_ turn you, or not, as it suits me."

"What … . What if … I agreed to be your mate?"

Raf's finger paused, and his eyebrow lifted in surprise."

"Sammy, don't," said Dean from the chair.

Sammy shot his brother a look that was full of relief and fear all in one. Dean was leaning to one side in the chair as if he was favoring his side. His face was pale and blood kept trickling down his face to drip onto his pale green shirt.

"Sorry, Dean. I've got to do this or he'll kill you," said Sam.

"Gag him," ordered Raf, flicking a hand at Dean. He sat on the edge of the table beside Sam and ran his fingers idly over Sam's chest. His smile stretched wider as he caught Dean's infuriated glare.

"Raf, get the f ..." Dean's words were cut off abruptly as Steven stuffed a handkerchief into his mouth and tied a painters rag around his head to hold it in place.

Raf turned back and bent down over Sam. He smiled, but didn't look back as Dean cursed at him through the gag. "Now, Samuel. Tell me what exactly you are offering?"

Sam took a breath. He didn't want to look into Raf's eyes and get caught again by them. He didn't want to feel Raf touching him. He didn't … but he had no choice. Sam locked his eyes with Raf's. "I'll be your mate. Willingly," he whispered, so that Dean didn't have to hear. "I'll be turned, I'll do what you want. My ll..love and loyalty will be yours, _if_ you let Dean leave safely."

Raf stared at him for a long moment and he licked his lips. "You will be mine, willingly?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"Prove it to me, with a kiss."

Sam nearly recoiled, nearly blew it by showing how disgusted he felt. But he parted his lips and let Raf kiss him, and it was the _hardest_ thing that he had ever done. Raf's tongue explored his mouth, brushing softly against his tongue and Sam tried to kiss back. Tried awkwardly to make Raf interested in the offer he was making. But it was so hard, much harder than he had thought, and he was clumsy. It went against everything inside of him. Completely against his nature. He was sure he was going to gag, certain that his body would rebel and he'd end up pulling away, especially when Raf ran his hand over his naked side. He couldn't stop the shiver that rippled up the whole length of his body, but just when he thought he couldn't do this anymore, just when he thought he'd have to turn his head away, he thought of Dean. This was for Dean's _life_. Sam's lips softened, and he kissed back, tangling his tongue with Raf's, exploring the Vamp's mouth in return, even brushing his tongue softly against some of the retracted fangs. He could feel Raf warming to the kiss. Could feel that he was getting interested.

Raf broke the kiss and lifted his head away a fraction. He blinked heated eyes once, twice, and licked at his lips. "Exquisite," he murmured softly, cupping Sam's cheek in his hand. "You almost make me want to change my mind."

It took a moment for Sam to pull himself together enough to understand what Raf was saying. Raf carded his fingers through Sam's hair once again, a look of regret on his face. "Unfortunately young Samuel, as delectable as you are, the risks are simply too great," he stroked a hand over Sam's abdomen sensuously. "Though with that single kiss, I am tempted anew to risk everything." He turned and stepped resolutely away from the table.

The other Vamps had watched the scene uncomfortably. Riya had turned her back and was busy stirring the contents of the ceramic jugs on the second table. Nathanial's eyes were haunted with some memory; he stared at Sam.

"Lets begin," said Raf. "Benjamin, have you changed your mind? Will you participate?"

Benjamin stepped forward and shook his head. "I don't want any part of it, and wish to separate from this clan. I have my car packed with my things and parked outside. Can I take my leave now?" he asked formally looking at Raf for permission.

Raf nodded his head. "You may leave. Stay safe, Benjamin. I hope you find another clan soon."

Benjamin smiled, and walked hurriedly to the door. He let himself out, and moments later a car could be heard driving away.

"Does anyone else wish to refrain or leave this clan?" asked Raf, he walked passed each of the other Vamp's and waited for them to reply. None of the other Vamps stepped forward. Crystal was wrapped in Steven's arm and Riya and Diane had huddled together beside Nathanial.

"Then we can begin." Raf moved over to the table, picked up a jug and poured a green thick liquid into a glass. He put the jug down and held out the glass to Nathanial. "Warmed by the sun and cooled by the moon on the night of the first one's turning." He held the glass to Nathanial's mouth and Nathanial drank down the liquid to the dregs.

Raf picked up the knife. It was an old knife, silver, with fine script work all over the handle and blade. But the edge and tip were shiny and freshly sharpened. Raf sliced open Nathanial's shirt, and drew him closer to Sam. Nathanial's face was scrunched up with pain. He hissed and bent over as cramps seemed to assault him.

"Nathanial?" called Riya anxiously. Raf shot her a glare and she quieted, biting at her lip. Diane wrapped her arm around her, staring from Sam to Nathanial with huge eyes.

Raf pulled his book from his pocket and read from it over the knife. They were ancient, foreign words. Sam thought they might be Hittite although the language had been extinct for nearly a thousand years. Then Raf tucked his book away again, lifted the knife and carved a symbol into the skin over Nathanial's heart.

Nathanial was writhing and his eyes were dilated. He sagged over Sam's chest and turned his head and snarled at Sam – snarled at his prey. His fangs were out and he wasn't Nathanial anymore.

Sam gasped. He instantly lost any fascination he had had with the ceremony and went into full blown panic. But there was nothing he could do. No way to fight. No where to go. Out of the corner of his eyes Sam saw Dean tip his chair over onto it's side as he also broke into a panic and struggled frantically to get free.

Nathanial grabbed Sam's chin hard and snarled again in Sam's face like a wild animal. His lips drew back from his fangs and Sam knew without a doubt, for the first time, that Nathanial was a Vampire.

Nathanial bit – hard and viciously into Sam's shoulder. Sam screamed with the pain, writhed on the table until the ropes cut into his skin. He could feel the bite _burning_ like acid. He howled again, arching his back up off the table and tried to twist away from Nathanial, but Nathanial caught his hips and slammed him down onto the table and held him still until he was done drinking.

Nathanial pulled away slowly, frowning down at Sam as if he was trying to remember who he was. He straightened shakily and Raf pressed his hand into the bite wound on Sam's shoulder and wiped the blood from it into the cuts that he'd made over Nathanial's heart. There was a sizzling sound and the cuts faded away. Nathanial was staggering back away from him, fangs retracting. "I can feel it, he gasped out. "Raf, it works, I can _feel_ it." He sagged against Raf and Raf lifted him gently and pressed a kiss to his head. Then he laid him down onto the rug.

"Riya dear, your turn," said Raf holding out his hands to her. Riya stepped forward hesitantly staring wide eyed at Nathanial writhing and twisting on the floor.

Raf poured a second glass full of the green liquid. "Warmed by the sun and cooled by the moon on the night of the first one's turning," he murmured huskily, and helped Riya drink the mixture. He sliced open her shirt too and carved a symbol above the tank top that she wore where her heart should have been. He pulled her over to Sam's side before she started sagging, and pushed her down so that her head lay on Sam's abdomen.

Sam had barely pulled himself together again after having been bitten so viciously – after the shock of _Nathanial_ biting him like that, and now found Riya snarling in his face with long fangs exposed. He twisted his head away and squeezed his eyes shut, panting hard in terror and trying to brace himself … . She bit hard into the soft skin in his side. Sam couldn't stop himself from twisting to the side and screaming until he had no breath left. When she let him go, Raf slicked his hands over the wound and wiped it into Riya's chest cuts. She moaned and sagged, shuddering into Raf's arms. He carried her over to the rug and laid her down near Nathanial's twitching form.

Sam was gasping. His blood seemed to be burning inside of him and he still didn't know what was going on, why he had to suffer through all this, what the Ceremony was doing to the Vamps. His broken wrist had snapped again in the ropes and throbbed painfully in time with his panicked heartbeats. He badly wanted to be sick. But then it was Steven bending over his stomach, now a snarling unrecognizable and vicious Vampire. Sam screamed so hard when Steven bit him over his heart that his voice cracked. Black dots flittered across Sam's vision and he turned his head away from Steven, tried not to hear the lapping sounds he made as Steven drank from him.

Dean was on the floor, still struggling. He had twisted so that one arm was around the side of the chair. He was shouting something into the gag and stilled for a moment to stare into Sam's eyes, showing how scared he was for Sam. How badly he wanted to help. How helpless he felt about not being able to. How much he loved his brother.

Sam locked his eyes with his brother's. Tried to hide the pain he was feeling. Tried to hide how close he was to passing out. Tried to hide how sad he was that he hadn't been able to save his brother. Tried to tell his brother goodbye and that he loved him too - "Dean ..." he tried to say, but although his lips moved, nothing was coming out.

Crystal was next. She bit into the skin near his throat and ripped her long fingernails across his waistline leaving four deep, bleeding furrows. Raf snarled at her then, and Sam noted blearily that Raf's fangs were bared, and he was looking at Sam possessively, wildly, losing his control.

Diane was more vicious than all of the rest. She straddled his body when he tried to pull away, slamming his hips back down again and then sank her fangs deeply into his neck. Sam screamed again with a voice gone raw. Raf ripped her away. He bent over Sam's gasping body, breathing in Sam's scent slowly and deeply and licking at droplets of Sam's blood before pressing his hand into the wound and slapping the blood into Diane's cuts. Then he picked up her sagging body and flung her across the room. She sailed right over Dean, struck the wall and slumped bonelessly to the floor and lay there, twitching.

Raf spun and leapt onto Sam's body. He gripped Sam beneath his chin and snarled into Sam's face. "Mine!" he hissed. He bit into Sam's throat where Diane had bitten and Sam choked, shuddered and tried weakly to twist free.

Raf was gone then, over to the other table. He ripped open his shirt and snatched up a jug, drinking down the contents, and wiping his sleeve across his mouth as he glared back at Sam. He said the words as he carved the symbol into his own chest and then flung the knife aside and pounced onto Sam, straddling his thighs and lifting Sam up by the hips until Sam was arched like a bow with his groin pressed against Raf's. "Mine!" he snarled again.

"No!" spat Sam, twisting to try and throw Raf off of him.

Raf bit down into Sam's neck again, then lifted his head before biting into Sam's shoulder. Sam sagged and went limp then, but Raf didn't notice. He bit again over Sam's heart and then over his stomach, then into his side, until Sam's body and Raf's face were both wet with blood.

Raf tugged at Sam's jeans trying to tear them open, and lifted Sam's hips right off the table. He shook Sam by the front of his jeans like a rag doll, trying to tear the material. He froze for a moment and wiped at the blood on Sam's stomach and looked at it dripping from his hand as if he was trying to remember what he had to do with it. Then slowly, he pressed it into the symbol he had carved into his chest.

Raf gasped and flung his blood covered face and arms right back, looking up through the open dome at the stars and moonlight streaming in, forgetting about the body that he straddled as he was caught up in the changes ripping through him, he gasped again, shuddered all over, and suddenly he was breathing in a great gulp of air. His lungs expanded and contracted and he sucked in another deep breath of air. He laughed loudly, up at the stars and ran his hands down his naked ribs, leaving long stripes of blood behind. He bent his head, "Samuel, what a gift you have given me. Given us!" he said not noticing that Sam was unconscious. "I can _breathe_ again, I have a beating heart once more and I feel my body rebuilding, blood flowing, becoming human once …," he sagged and tumbled off of Sam and fell to the floor with a thud. And suddenly the room was completely silent.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**


	30. Chapter 30

_**Warning - Some swearing**_

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS**

Dean twisted and writhed trying to get free of the damned chair. It was a heavy, solid chair and would never break easily and the back of it was high and curved with a winged back design and he _couldn't_ get his arms over it no matter how much he twisted and turned. But Dean was desperate. The Vamps and the ceremony were gonna kill Sammy. Even Nate had become a monster and had hurt Sammy.

Now the Vamps lying on the floor all seemed to be in the middle of _the_ drug high to end all drug highs, but Raf was the one that worried him the most. Raf had been losing control steadily through the whole ceremony. Each time one of the Vamps bit into Sammy, Raf had gotten more aggressive. Maybe he was feeling the 'Need', or maybe because they were biting into what Raf perceived as his 'potential mate', but Raf was definitely losing it, and Dean was scared half to death for Sammy.

Dean concentrated on working himself up the back on the chair inch by fucking inch, hoping to slide off of it, hoping that he'd be able to get free in time. When he looked back, Raf was different. Wild. And Dean wondered for a moment whether Raf _had_ lost control ... . Diane's body sailing right over the top of him then, when Raf threw her away from Sammy, was a big giveaway.

Diane hit the wall behind him with a loud thump and slumped to the ground. Raf climbed on top of Sammy and gripped his brother's throat and snarled "mine!" into Sammy's face, and Dean was screaming: "NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!" into the gag, certain that he was about to see Sam turned right there in front of him. But instead Raf staggered over to the table to drink the green goop and carve himself up, and Dean knew Raf hadn't planned on doing things that way – that Raf _wasn't_ thinking straight. Raf would be leaving his kin vulnerable if he fell to the ground twitching on a drug high like the rest of his kin. There would be no-one on watch at all, and Dean knew that _this_ was the best chance they had for escaping – if only he could get himself free!

Raf flung the knife away and Dean watched it spin through the air and land near the piano. Then Raf was on top of Sam again, right in his brother's face and Dean couldn't understand why Sammy was still conscious after all that the Vamps had done to him.

"Mine!" snarled Raf in Sammy's face again, and Dean yelled furiously into the gag for all he was worth, though it wasn't helping Sam. Raf was gonna turn Sammy. Dean was sure of it. He had to get out of the handcuffs. Had to! Dean twisted once more, pressing his cuffed hands against the back of the chair to try and give himself some leverage.

"No!" spat Sammy. And Dean was amazed to see that Sam was still fighting. Still had some strength left. But then Raf was biting, again and again and again and Dean could barely breathe through the pain he was in, having to watch Raf maul his brother. Dean knew the exact moment when Sam passed out. He could see Sam's body suddenly go limp as Raf bit into him frenziedly, over and over. The desperation he felt then was nearly overwhelming in it's intensity.

Dean had an idea for what he had to do. He needed just a few inches of extra space to work with if he was going to get out of the chair in time to help Sammy. Hell, his arm had half come out of the socket when Benjamin had tackled him. He gritted his teeth as he quickly got his shoulder ready. He twisted his arm, aimed, slammed it down abruptly and howled into the gag. Damn it! That had hurt! For a few seconds he lay still, panting through the pain, stunned by what he had done. He had dislocated his left shoulder. Deliberately. Not something he wanted to do every day. But he had no time for daydreaming.

Carefully, Dean stretched out his elbows, feeling all sorts of agony spiking through his shoulder, and bit hard into the gag in his mouth. He wriggled sideways, stretching his arms wider. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead into his eyes but Dean wouldn't give up. He just needed a little bit more. Wider he stretched, locking his eyes onto Raf and Sam – watching the Vamp fling his head and arms back like a sick imitation of the guy at the bow of the Titanic in the movie. Wider, until his arms shook with the strain and he could feel all the skin and muscles around his shoulder pulling - stretching unnaturally. He watched Raf laugh and say something to Sam and Dean was again watching with terror for the moment when Raf would try to turn his brother … . So it came as a shock, when Raf tumbled to the floor and the room became silent.

Dean blinked, momentarily losing his concentration. Then he strained and stretched, making the gag hot with his panting breaths. Sam was lying so still on the table while all around him the Vamps were twisting and twitching on the floor. They might be on some sort of high but they were still there and still dangerous. Dean closed his eyes and strained with everything he had, pushing the flat of his hands against the chair back and inching it down. Straining and stretching and sweating and swearing into the gag non-stop.

Suddenly he was free. He felt like throwing up then, when his arm flopped down the wrong way, but this was the best chance that they had had in a month to escape and Dean wasn't gonna let anything stop him now.

Dean scanned the room first carefully. He couldn't afford to blow this chance by being hasty or incautious. Diane was still alive, but by the look of her Raf had probably knocked her out for a while, and she had what Dean needed next. It took him less than a minute to get over to her. He bent to steal one of the many hairpins out of the bun that she had tied her hair into. But something about her had him turning to look at her more carefully. She was breathing – or at least her lungs were moving. Not only that, she had bodily warmth going like a furnace and bright spots of color in her cheeks. Dean frowned at her for a second and then got down to business. He had other things to worry about than freakin' ancient ceremonial voodoo, and getting Sammy out of here while they had this chance was top of the list.

It was sheer agony to get his body scrunched up enough where he could work the cuffs with the split hairpin, and he growled deeply in his throat to stop himself from screaming like a girl. But these kinds of locks were easy compared to the state of the art manacles that they'd been in, and he had one side unlocked in less than two minutes.

Dean yanked out his gag. He climbed awkwardly to his feet with his hand braced against his aching ribs, and crept around towards the piano hoping none of the twitching Vamps were capable enough to put up a fight if they noticed he'd gotten free. The knife that Raf had flung away was right where he thought it would be, and Dean felt a whole lot better once he wrapped the fingers of his good hand around the hilt.

He skirted twitching bodies and hurried over to Sam on the table. "Crap," he swore softly. Sam's face was white, and there were bites, bruises and blood everywhere. Mostly blood. So much blood. He cut the ropes tying his brother down, and swore again when he saw the plaster cast had been broken again and Sam's wrist was probably busted for the third time in a month He tapped at Sammy's cheek, trying to rouse him - and nearly leapt out of his skin when Nathanial moaned and rolled over on the rug. Dean held the knife ready but Nate soon settled again, and Dean turned back to Sammy.

He looked helplessly down at his unconscious brother, and then up at the door. He had to get him out. And that wasn't likely to happen with his shoulder out of commission, he hated to waste the time, but Dean moved quickly over to the closest wall. He spared a moment to prepare himself and then slammed his shoulder back into the socket. Damn, but it hurt enough to make him sag against the wood paneling and see stars and that almost made him panic – sent adrenalin shooting through him in an icy rush. He couldn't afford to pass out again. Not now!

Dean staggered over to Sammy. He patted at his brother's cheek and scanned around, checking the Vamps and looking for something warm to wrap around his brother. Steven groaned and shifted on the floor and Nathanial rolled back over onto his back. Dean was balanced on the balls of his feet with the knife held ready, but the Vamps weren't making any threatening moves. He knew what he should do. _Knew _he should behead them all while he had the chance. He sidled closer to Nate and checked him over from a safe distance. Nate had color in his cheeks too, like Diane, and Dean could see the throbbing in his throat that showed there was a pulse beating away. What the hell? When the penny finally dropped about what the whole damned ceremony thing had been for, Dean was stunned. "I'll be damned," he murmured. Dean looked around at the other Vamps and he knew they were all becoming human again.

Then his eyes fell onto Raf. Dean stepped carefully closer, lifting the knife high. He was going to kill the bastard and he didn't give a damn that the freak was unconscious. He lifted the knife high and froze.

Something was wrong with Raf.

Raf was cramping up again in pain. His eyes had snapped open in confusion and he rolled on the floor gasping in agony. Hands that were wrinkling rapidly with age groped shakily for the book in his pocket. Then Raf was wailing horribly. He arched and screamed and his body rippled as his stolen blood began to surge like a tidal wave back through his body. He aged to ancient in moments. He flung himself open in agony looking right into Dean's face without seeing him and then curled inward into a fetal position and screamed again. Again he stretched himself out and howled. Dean lifted the knife again ready to put the bastard down when the symbol Raf had carved into his chest started burning with red hot heat that Dean could feel from six feet away. Raf fixed his eyes onto Dean again, and there was a moments desperate recognition in them before he drew in one last breath, screamed it out, and burned completely into ash in less than a heartbeat.

Dean blinked away bright spots from his vision. For a few seconds Dean was stunned. He half expected the elder Vamp to appear behind him in a faster-than-the-eye-can-see move, and take him down. The hairs on the back of his neck were all standing up and his body was tensed, ready for an attack. But nothing happened. There was nothing.

Dean took in a slow shaky breath and he realized how truly freaked out he'd been by the elder Vamp and his 'super' skills. He stamped out Raf embers firmly with the heel of his boot. "Here's hoping I still have some cow manure on these boots, you bastard," he murmured twisting the last ashes into the floor. A blur near the door had Dean spinning into a crouch, but there was nothing there. No movement at all, except for shadows of tree branches waving in the moonlight. Dean shuddered. He was gonna be jumping at every damn thing for months after Raf. Dean hurried back over to Sammy.

Sam was staring through half opened eyes – at nothing. He barely blinked when Dean came closer and for a moment Dean was convinced he'd gone catatonic again. Then Sammy's lips moved and he mouthed out 'Dean', without a sound. Dean managed a grin despite his shoulder; despite his aching side and his suddenly splitting headache. He helped Sam to sit up carefully and helped him down from the table.

For a second Dean looked around at all of the fallen Vamps. But Sam was jelly legged and barely conscious and more than anything he needed out of this hell hole. Dean tucked himself under Sam's shoulder and half dragged, half carried Sam out.

"Dean?" said Sam – though it was barely audible.

"Sammy? It's okay, Iv'e got ya. We're getting out of here, bro."

Sam twisted in his arm, trying to look over his shoulder for any pursuing Vamps and Dean moaned as his shoulder was jarred.

Sam froze for a second and his legs started to fold. "Dean? You 'kay?" asked Sammy.

Dean braced his brother until he had straightened again, managed a pain filled: "Yup."

Sam was quiet for a few seconds. "We gettin' out?"

"Uh-huh," puffed Dean.

Sam walked a few more shaky steps. "Gonna pass out, Dean."

Dean nodded and braced himself, but Sammy managed another ten steps before his legs folded under him. Dean caught him and couldn't help the moan of pain as his ribs and shoulder were pulled. He hauled Sammy with one arm wrapped around his chest and his feet dragging on the gravel all the way over to the Impala, and even with the shoulder and the ribs, Dean noticed that it wasn't that hard. He remembered back to Roseburg when he'd first gotten Sammy away from the Vamps how he'd been thinking of his brother as a gangly Sasquatch that was too heavy to shift. Sam had lost a lot of weight since then. An awful lot of weight. Hell, Sammy was a mess - body and soul.

Dean dropped into the driver's seat and got his baby moving. For a long while he drove like all the hounds from hell were on his tail, and checked his rear view mirror every few miles. Through Rugby and heading down to Bobby's. It was only a state line away to South Dakota. Five or six hours at cruising speed - and he wasn't cruising.

Fifty miles out and he stopped to clean and bandage Sammy's wounds. He would leave the broken wrist until he got to Bobby's. Bobby was damned good at setting broken bones. He reached for more swabs noticing that Nate had fully restocked the first aid kit, adding instructions and extra meds in too. He took out the pain pills and swallowed two dry, pocketing the bottle for Sammy. There was a insulated bag with ice bricks in it and bottles of water and wrapped sandwiches and pie inside. Dean just looked at the stuff for a minute, and then took out some water to wash down the pills.

"Dean?" said Sammy.

Dean went around to Sammy's door and looked into his brothers eyes. They were glassy. He wasn't really all there yet. "Hey Sammy."

"We out?"

"Yeah, Sammy. We got out. I'm cleaning the bites up and we're heading out to Bobby's house. Here," he pulled out the bottle of pain meds. "Take these while you're awake."

Sam swallowed the pills and drank from the bottle that Dean held for him. "Raf'll follow," said Sam, with more than a little fear in his voice.

"Nuh-uh, Sammy, Raf is dead. Completely dead. He can't hurt you anymore."

Sammy just looked at him for a long moment. Then his eyes closed and he was out again.

Dean was nearly a hundred miles into the trip when he realized that Nate must had refilled the fuel tank, and the dash had been shined up, hell the whole interior had been cleaned until it looked like new. For a second or two Dean felt guilty for just leaving Nate behind like that, but then he remembered the look Sam had had on his face when Nate had snarled at him and bitten him. He glanced over at Sammy's thin white face and clenched his jaw. Dean had only one thing to look after and that was Sammy. They didn't owe any of Raf's clan any favors – not even Nate.

Dean glanced over at Sammy in the seat beside him again. He looked awful. White faced, hollow cheeked. He looked smaller and more vulnerable – like he was fifteen again. But Dean knew the real mess was on the inside. He had to wonder, with all that Sammy had been through over the last month, whether his brother was ever gonna be the same as he had been before the Vamps had gotten him.

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**


	31. Chapter 31

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

Sam couldn't make sense of much that happened during those first days back at Bobby's. Everything came in short flashes or snippets of memory. Part of it was because he was out cold for a while. Part of it was post stress. Part of it was his screwed up head, and the massive headache, and part of it was all the friggin other stuff that had happened with the Vamps. So now he had a cup of hot chocolate with him and he was sitting on the front steps at Bobby's trying to sort it all out.

They had arrived at Bobby's place at five a.m. in the morning. He remembered Bobby came out wearing a dressing gown and carrying his shotgun, with the dog barking the place down. He remembered being bothered by the dog for some reason, but he'd been too out of it to do anything.

"You boys, had better have a good reason for not calling me and letting me know where the _hell_ you've been!" yelled Bobby going red in the face with rage.

Dean only glanced at him as he went around to open the passenger door.

"I've had every hunter in the _country_ looking for your asses since you called from Rose … ." Bobby went from red in the face to pale in a second or two and Sammy remembered lifting a shaking hand in case Bobby passed out on them.

"Jeez," said Bobby gruffly. "That's not … Sam?"

Sam remembered being confused, thinking that was weird – Bobby not remembering him. It had only been a few months. He even wondered if Bobby had Alzheimer's or something coming along. He hadn't put together that it was just because he looked so different.

Dean put his arm under Sammy's shoulder and got him shuffling towards the door. Bobby was helping at the other shoulder in a second and together they got him into the house.

"The guest room ..."

"The sofa's better right now, Bobby. Trust me on this one."

Bobby helped put him on the sofa and took a closer look - like right in his face. "What the hell happened to you two? How'd he get into this state?"

Sam remembered frowning, wondering why Bobby was talking _about_ him instead of _to_ him.

Dean shook his head. "The Vamps got us. Sammy's arm is broken again. He needs a doctor. You know, the one that knows about the kind of crap we deal with." Dean lifted away the blanket he'd wrapped Sam in and checked the bite wounds, and Sammy remembered Bobby cursing about the bandages and then freaking about the amount of blood on his shirt.

"Ask your doctor friend to bring along some stuff for a blood transfusion. Sammy's got some meds here that he's been taking and I really need to talk to her about them." Dean tucked a pile of blankets around Sam and ruffled his hair like he was five or something. "Then I need my ribs taped up, Bobby. And a beer. I really could use a beer. It's been bad, Bobby. I'll tell you everything in the kitchen, while you're calling the doctor. I want to make Sam some hot soup up."

Sam remembered going to sleep on the sofa. Remembered feeling safe for the first time in too long. Remembered thinking that Dean had lied about not being hurt, and feeling agitated about it, but he hadn't been able to keep from slipping into sleep.

After that things got hazy for a while. There had been a doctor and a blood transfusion, a new cast, and a fever and a bit of delirium. One or two right royal nightmares too.

Things cleared up for a bit then. At least once he started getting passed the headaches. But he'd had a lot of trouble going to sleep and started jumping at everything, seeing shadows move and losing his temper about the stupidest stuff. He wouldn't go to the bed upstairs at all and Dean had set up a sleeping bag on the floor beside the sofa.

A couple of days later, Dean figured out that half Sam's nightmares were being triggered by the chain rattling on the dog outside and Bobby had promptly set the dog free and even went so far as to put the chain away somewhere.

Then he'd had trouble with eating again, even threw a plate of toast out the window one morning. He'd gone to sit on the steps where he was sitting right now and Dean had brought him some coffee and sat with him. Just sat with him until he'd finished the coffee.

"Do you want a refill?" asked Dean.

Sam shook his head, watching the dog come and eat the toast. "I ..." Sam tossed a pebble down the steps. "I need to _remember _it all, Dean. I need to be able to trust what's in my head. I can't go avoiding my own memories. I can't be second guessing every thought I think. I need to know if I was … I need to know how far Raf went into my head and if he r …," Sam shuddered and rubbed at his scrunched up eyes. "Jeez, this is hard."

"You need to know if he did rape you," said Dean wrapping his hands around his own coffee.

Sam was quiet for a few minutes looking out at the yard blindly. "Thing is … my brain's fried, everything 's messed up in there now and I can't ..."

Dean nodded and scooped up a small pebble from the stair. "I can understand that. I know it's hard to face up to, but you've got to eat, Sam. You're falling apart. If it's hurting you this bad, then you've _got_ to remember. If he did … rape you, then we deal with it. I personally don't think he had the time. I know he did other bad things, messed with your head. I _know_ it's hard, but … Sammy, I'm scared for you."

Sam looked over at his brother, momentarily thrown by the frank admission.

Dean shrugged. "You won't eat anything, Sam. You're living on coffee and hot chocolate. You're scaring me, and Bobby's worried half to death. You won't sleep, and when you do, the nightmares are --- ." Dean ran a hand through his hair and over his face. "I'm not saying you haven't any right to be upset or have nightmares – hell, _I'm _having nightmares, but – you're …" Dean threw the pebble away violently, and winced as he jarred his sore shoulder. "You have no idea how hard it was being in that damned house, watching Raf attack you over and over again. I nearly went nuts not being able to protect you Sam. That's my job – protecting you, has been since you were born and I _couldn't _stop them, I couldn't get you out even when I had that damned paperclip. I've never felt more helpless in my entire life and all I hear when I go to sleep is you screaming. I ... ." Dean sighed and dropped down another step to sit beside his brother. "I need you to get through this Sammy, 'cause _I'm_ not getting through this without you. It's you and me, remember? Come what may, no matter what?"

Sam didn't know what to say for a minute. He'd been so focussed on himself and his own pain that he hadn't been thinking of what it had been like for Dean. He'd been a complete selfish idiot. "You did the best that you could Dean and you _did_ get us out. You did just fine." said Sam.

"So how come I'm feeling like I failed you, Sammy?" said Dean softly.

They watched the sun go down together then and Sam thought hard. Tried to sort his scrambled memories into order.

"Use your other senses. Remember the feel of the stairs, the smells around you. They might help you remember," he rubbed absently at his ankle. "One of my worst nightmares is when he dragged you away from me down to his bedroom. I can still hear you screaming for me," Dean prompted softly.

Sam nodded looking down at his feet on the step without seeing them. "He had a sofa and a coffee table. Spicy smells. I could smell furniture polish. I tried to keep away from him. I … He wanted to convince me that I'd be better off as a Vamp."

Dean nodded and waited a bit before prompting Sam again. "He said he knew Da Vinci."

Sam's breathing picked up speed as he started remembering, and he started speaking faster "He cornered me … he was too fast. I ..."

"You told him that you didn't like him."

Sam shook his head, his eyes focused inward, speaking fast to get the words said. "He said there were only two days to go and he wanted to blend with me again and he broke my arm when I hit him. He said he was gonna turn me one way or another and didn't need my compliance and he was gonna make me his mate. And he … and he dragged me to the bed and he started ripping my clothes off and he got on top of me, and he … he was _touching_ me and I was fighting and he started kissing me and touching ..." Sam shuddered. "I couldn't get him _off_ me. He started mind blending and he got into my memory ..." Sam frowned in concentration. "Oh God, it was my memory of Jess and the first time we … the first time … ." Tears were pouring down Sam's cheeks, dripping onto his shoes. "He was touching me the same way like - like Jess did, and I _couldn't_ … I couldn't let him take Jess. He put his hands down my … he was _making_ me … I couldn't get him _off_. I couldn't … I was desperate and somehow, I _pushed _with my head, like I did before_. _Oh God. I pushed him off and then when he started coming back I pushed him as hard as I could through the door. He didn't ... ," Sammy's voice was suddenly full of realization, relief and exhaustion. "He didn't!"

Dean pulled Sammy in for a tight hug. He held on and stroked his brother's back while the kid held on for dear life with his shoulders shuddering. Stroked his hair. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay. You beat Raf. He didn't rape you, Sammy. You _beat_ him."

After that things got a little better. Sam started eating again, discovered an appetite - especially for Bobby's pancakes with blueberries. Suddenly Bobby was serving up mega sized stacks of the things and there were more blueberries than Sam had ever seen. He sat out on the steps with Dean each evening and went over each memory that Raf had gone into and they both found much to their relief that Raf's presence in the memories was fading and they were reverting back to what they had been before Raf had blended. Dean had gone over his blending memory too along with all the other stuff that had gone on in the house and Sam realized how hard it was for Dean to talk about it. How hard feeling helpless had been for Dean. Especially how hard it had been for Dean to watch his brother getting hurt over and over. Sometimes Dean was so furious, after their talks, that his hands would cramp up from being held in fists for so long. Sam could see that Dean needed this time at Bobby's just as much as he did.

Bobby had gotten all excited once he learned about elder Vamps and the Feya scroll copy that Raf had had.

"Here," he said one morning, giving Sam an empty journal book. "I want both of you to write down everything about that ceremony before you start forgettin' things."

Dean had looked at Sammy and frowned. "Bobby, I don't think ..."

"It's okay," said Sam picking up the pen and the journal. "It might help other hunters one day."

Dean shrugged. "I didn't get a good look at the goop that they were drinking or ..."

Bobby shook his head. "I've got that covered. Had Connor Liffers and Ed Wallace stop by at Rugby. They found the place easy enough. It's been abandoned, most of the cars are gone and any personal items have been taken. Connor got a good sample of the green goop and Ed has been looking for any other copies of the Feya scroll that might have been made. He says there are some ashes and scorch marks on the floor. Connor is gonna have those analyzed along with the goop, just to make sure."

Sam looked from Bobby to Dean with a frown. "Make sure of what?"

Dean sighed. "I was trying to figure out why Raf burned up like that. As far as I could see he followed through with the ceremony same as the others."

Bobby dumped a pile of pancakes onto Sam's plate. "From what you told me, I'm not so sure," said Bobby.

Sam frowned, trying to remember. "He carved the symbol on his chest, same as the others. He drank the goop and said the same words."

"Yeah," Bobby pushed the maple syrup into Sam's hands. "But he wasn't in _control_, and he bit you more than the one time. This Need thing that you told me about explains a lot. I think he burned up 'cause of it too. It might be worth looking up that Vamp Lenore, and her clan. It'd be worth it if the Vamps knew some of the stuff about the Need and how it makes them less human and less in control of their Vamp instincts."

Sam's voice was suddenly tight again. "Raf _is_ dead isn't he? I mean, you watched him burn up."

Dean hesitated for the barest moment before he nodded, "He burned up all right, I don't see any reason for him to fake it."

"How could he have faked that?" asked Bobby incredulously.

"You had to have seen him move," said Dean. "He was that fast you couldn't see him. I half expected him to take me down even _after_ he burned up."

Sammy frowned at him again. "There was no reason for him to fake anything. I mean he had total control. We we're tied up and the other Vamps were busy turning human. He could have beat us both by himself even if we'd had our weapons."

Bobby did a double take on them both. "Really?"

Dean nodded. "Next time there's an elder Vamp around we need to call in reinforcements. Like, half the Hunters in the whole country."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam's hot chocolate had gone cold in his hand and he put the cup aside. Overall, the last month or two had been hell. But there had been good points about it. He and Dean had been talking a lot more. They hadn't been this in tune with each other since Sam had left for school. And some of what they had talked about meant more to him than anything. He'd learned a lot about Dean. Being chained up together for a whole month had made them closer. A lot closer, more comfortable with each other too and he thought they were both a lot happier for it. He had come out of this all with more confidence in himself and in his brother and in their relationship. Yeah, a whole lot of good had come out of a bad situation.

"You okay?"

Sam looked up as Dean came to sit beside him, carrying two cups. He pushed a fresh hot chocolate into Sam's hands.

"I'm fine thanks," said Sam. "Just … trying to get it all straight in my head now that the headaches are finally gone."

Dean sipped at his hot chocolate and pulled a crumpled letter out of his pocket.

"You going to read it? Nathanial said you could."

Dean shook his head. "I glanced at it, but it's … family stuff. I respect him too much to read it, I'm gonna feed it to the shredder when I go back in, I just wanted to know if you wanted to read it."

Sam shook his head and sipped at his hot chocolate.

Dean tucked the letter back into his pocket and leaned back against the railing. He wrapped his hands around his cup and sipped contentedly.

Sam took a sip from his cup too. "Bobby says there might be a hunting job over in Bardstown in Kentucky. Poltergeist he thinks."

Dean eyed his brother carefully, trying to hide the eagerness he felt about getting back into the game. "You sure you're up to it, Sammy?"

Sam nodded back at his brother. "It's 'Sam', Dean, just 'Sam.'"

Dean grinned impishly and sipped at his hot chocolate.

"Don't lose the address though; Nate's family address."

Dean tilted his head a little and looked at Sam questioningly.

"It's – I don't know. It's kind of good to know that the taint in my blood was good for something besides getting people killed. And Nate … I'd like to know if he made it okay. He was a great guy – for a Vamp. He tried his best for us."

Dean shrugged stiff shoulders.

Sam shook his head. "He took good care of us Dean, you know that. And he packed everything for us, took care of the car, even waxed her. He _couldn't_ cross Raf, but he tried his best to help us. I found our wallets in the glove box along with some money."

"Oh?"

Sam dug the wad out of his pocket and handed it over. "About sixteen grand."

Dean's eyes widened and he glanced back at Sammy's hopeful expression. "Yeah, okay. Nate was a great guy," said Dean, grudgingly. He sipped at his cup and frowned thoughtfully. "He's from Kentucky too. Maybe after the hunt we can drop by and ask after him."

Sammy smiled and sipped at his drink.

The End

**SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN**

**Well, that's it. I hope you all enjoyed this story. Let me know if I've forgotten to clarify anything.**

**I'm pleased to say I've achieved my goals with this fic. I wrote a small book in four months - just to prove that I could! AND kept a loyal readership and interest for this story. I've got a decision to make as to whether or not to try this professionally one day - I'd definitely like to have writing as a career or at least as a lucrative second job. So any constructive comments about style etc are most welcome. But wow, what a ride! Can't wait to do it all again! - After the holiday that we're leaving for tomorrow!**

** I have to say this has been the best fun. I've loved reading all the lovely reviews all 600 of 'em! A BIG thankyou to all who did take the time to review. As I've said time and again - it's the awesome reviews that keep people writing for fanfiction.**

******* Possible SEQUEL in the works- given enough interest that is.******

**Cheers! **


End file.
